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Date Posted: 18:03:57 03/27/02 Wed
Author: Tristan
Subject: The source of our troubles
In reply to: Tia and Jeremy 's message, "Evil, evil chapel room" on 10:08:54 03/27/02 Wed

“I have to get away from you for a minute.”

Tristan heard himself mumble something incoherent when he felt Marz pull away from him. He clung to his hands, then his shirt, his waist, his leg, and finally nothing, his fingers closing, grasping at air until he was alone on the floor. He was still in a slight state of mental shock as he lay back down, curling up slightly and putting his cheek against the cold stone, his eyes staring blindly ahead. Around him, he could hear the others speaking softly, their feet echoing dimly, but it was as if he lay in another world away from them.

His whole body tensed when another horrid image flashed before him, leaving him shaking with dread and fear. He thought of the red-tinted water, slipping, burning down his throat, and he imagined it to be the blood of a hundred thousand victims, all rushing through his own veins. Their cries echoed in his head, a flash of pain and ultimate suffering, before blanking out again, his body numb with shock and confusion. It only Marz hadn’t left him, he thought, it would all go away again, because Marz always made everything better, made it somehow all right again.

A cool, underground breeze brushed lightly against his bare chest, making him recall how Marz had torn his shirt open in his almost violent passion. Tristan shivered, remembering how they had torn at each other like beasts, how Marz had crushed him with his mouth, his hand tugging at the laces on Tristan’s pants and sliding below, stroking and caressing until—

Tristan sat bolt upright, his eyes whirling red with emotion, his breathing refusing to deepen and become normal again. That strange, unnatural lust rose up again, burning through his body until he was driven mad with need. Again, the scenes flashed through his mind, people screaming and chanting, painting their bodies with blood. He tried desperately to regain control of himself, horrified when he realized the images and sounds and feelings were only stirring his desire even more. He was confused, bewildered…he groaned…he could feel the water rushing through him again…

He stood up, quickly, clutching at his pants as they started to slide off his hips, thanks to Marz’s earlier manipulations. With clumsy fingers, he managed to string the laces back up, the pants tightening over his unnatural arousal, his mind still struck dumb by these new, horrific, sadistic urges in him. He stumbled in the direction Marz had fled too, even though he knew that was the worst possible thing he could do, but he couldn’t stop his feet, or the roar of the blood-water, pounding through his body.

The loud, demonic laughter that echoed through the chapel walls barely registered in his brain as he entered an alcove, his eyes piercing the darkness and falling upon Marz. At that point, his mind went almost completely blank as he rushed toward him, the only thing eclipsing his sudden violent lust the undiminished love he still felt for the person before him. “We…have to get…out of here!” he whispered, his breath coming in short gasps as he pushed his mouth hungrily against Marz’s and pressed his body hard up against his.

~*~*~*~*~

Rowan felt awful about what had happened to Tristan. How the hell was he supposed to know the water would…would…well, would do whatever it had done to him? Why’d he scream as if someone had tried to torture him, and then collapsed on the floor, all the while wearing that look of utter horror? Rowan shook his head, backing up when he saw Marz approaching him, but he was too late to avoid the dragon’s righteously angry lover. He nodded his acceptance of the threat he was given, stumbling slightly as he was released.

He sighed almost inaudibly when it appeared that Tristan would be all right. He almost choked on his own breath, though, when the normally standoffish young dragon began to kiss Marz passionately on the floor! Naturally, Marz quickly returned the sentiment, and for a second, it looked like they were going to make love right there in front of everyone! Normally, Rowan had good control over himself, but he felt his lust reawaken as he watched them, unable to take his eyes off the handsome young couple although he desperately willed himself to.

That’s when the feeling descended, an intense, heart-pounding feeling of dread falling upon him and stealing the very breath out of his lungs for a second or two. Rowan gasped and doubled over when it passed, his fingers trembling uncontrollably. A few seconds later, it came again, leaving him with a strange sensation…almost as if someone were searching for them.

He voiced his feelings, but got hardly or not response at all from the others. Marz was already gone, though Tristan was still on the floor. Rowan swallowed and tore his eyes away from the dragon’s bare chest and unlaced pants. The sudden desire to take the handsome youth by force washed over him, and he forced himself to walk a few feet away, sickened to the bone by what his body wanted. It’s not me, though, he assured himself, moving to lean against a pew. It’s this place…

When he looked up again, he caught sight of his beloved Tia giving Corum a passionate kiss by the altar. He groaned and turned away again, not even waiting for his mind to seize upon that possible scenario. Rather reflexively, he rushed toward the door where Jeremy and Saras had retreated too. Feeling somewhat more in control of himself, he bent down and hauled the boy and the genie to their feet, interrupting the private conversation they’d been sharing.

“Come with me,” he ordered, “Now!”

He hurried back through the chapel, cutting across the main isle and heading for the passage leading out the north side of the room. A sudden urge to slam Jeremy up against the wall and use one of his knives to…to…gods, to do who the hell knew what, very nearly overtook him, but he battled admirably against the sick, sadistic feeling. Suddenly afraid of what he might do to the two kids he held by the wrists, he released them, shoving them forward and commanding them to keep going. He trailed behind them until they finally entered the passage and moved a ways off, Rowan stopping to lean against the wall and breath deeply.

For a while, it was just the three of them and Benis, the Jann, who must have arrived before they did. After a few minutes had passed, Tia and Corum rushed in, with Barry floating over head. Eventually, Marz and Tristan arrived, the pair looking a little ragged around the edges. Tristan looked downright terrified, actually.

“Let’s go,” he finally said, momentarily taking over the leadership role and bringing their small group down the magically lit tunnel. It soon opened out into what appeared to be a vast chasm, stretching for miles and miles below the earth, the only thing joining them and the adjoining cave across the way a perilously thin, stone bridge without railing of any kind.

Figuring it to be some sort of illusion, Rowan picked up a pebble and tossed it into the cavern, his eyes going wide with disbelief when the tiny rock fell for several long seconds before the sound of it hitting the ground echoed dimly back upward. How the hell was this possible? A huge trench in the middle of the city? He shook his head. Gods only knew. Whether it was really here or not, he had a sinking feeling it was at least real enough to kill them if they followed that pebble.

“I’ll go first,” Tristan said suddenly, moving past the others and walking fearlessly out onto the thin, rocky bridge. Rowan gaped at him until he remembered how silly it would be for a dragon to be afraid of heights. Odd for Tristan to simply take the lead like that, though. Strange, but the dragon seemed almost uncommonly skittish for some reason or other.

“It’s fine,” Tristan said, shrugging slightly. He just barely had enough room to turn and beckon them all to follow, before whirling around again and disappearing in the corridor opposite their ledge.

~*~*~*~*~

Immediately, the sinister feeling of dread and evil returned heavily as Tristan made his way into the rocky passage. The searching feeling of fear swept over him again, making him crouch and try to catch his breath a few seconds before he could stand again. From behind, he heard a few of the others finally making it to the other side. He moved forward a bit more, narrowing his eyes as the corridor opened up until it was at least twenty feet tall and fifteen feet wide. A couple times it branched off in various directions, giving him the impression that he was almost in a maze.

Again, the feeling of dread hit him, only this time a harsh, vivid image sprang up in his mind. This time, he saw a nightmare spawned into reality: an immense, grotesque demon, standing at least twenty feet high, with two twin black bull horns stretching from its reddish head while its muscular, human legs dwindled into ugly cloven goat’s hoofs. A second late, the image flashed out of existence, and Tristan blinked, sucking in a breath when all the lights in the corridor went briefly back out—then, a long row of torches sputtered into existences, though he hadn’t previously seen them there. Before he could wonder at that, a loud, inhuman roar echoed through the tunnels, deafening him for a fraction of a second. Although he had no idea which passage it had come from, he could tell it was very near—and soon the telltale sound of heavy footsteps could be heard.

Slowly, Tristan withdrew his sword and backed against a wall, cursing himself for leaving his friends and lover behind. Had they all followed right behind him? Had some not yet crossed the bridge even? He didn’t know. All he could do was wait and stand his ground, prepared to fight until there was no life left in him to fight any longer.

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