Story: Shadowdarke--- Trials of the Mind
by J. Darksong
The plane ride was boring and uneventful, and to my way of thinking, that was a good
thing. Mistress and her Master, Mr. Darke, had been quiet and introspective the entire
time. I wasn't fully aware of what was going on. Actually, after waking up this morning to
find myself between my Mistress' beautiful thighs, I hadn't been FULLY aware of anything.
Still, it didn't bother me that much. All I needed to concentrate on was serving Her to the
best of my ability. Everything else would take care of itself.
We soon disembarked, landing in New York. I'd never been here before, despite all my
time in the airline business, and I was blown away at how BIG the city was. Everywhere you
looked, there were people and buildings and care, as far the eye could see. For a moment, I
was stunned by the sheer magnitude of the place. I felt lost, like a single little speck set
adrift in the ocean. Instinctively, I reached out for Mistress Shelley's hand, relaxing a
bit in her strong familiar grip.
"First time in New York, hmmm?" She asked. "I've been here quite a few times. The
thing that really blew me away the first time I was here was how BIG it is. I know, Toronto
and Vancouver are big cities too, but for New York to be so small, it's very well packed."
I nodded. "Kind of... overwhelming at first, isn't it?"
Shelley laughed softly. "You get used to it, after a while. Come on. We need to get a
taxi."
On the way to our hotel, Shelley turned to Mr. Darke and frowned. "Your nose is bleeding
again," she said softly, wiping the twin crimson tracks from her Master's face.
"Yes, thank you," he replied. "How are you holding up, Shelley?"
"Just a slight headache, that's all. Nothing serious."
I noticed that both Shelley and Mr. Darke had been feeling a bit under the weather since
leaving Canada. I was feeling a little queasy myself, but I always felt a bit out of sorts when
traveling by plane.
Once we'd arrived at the hotel, the Master excused himself, telling us to get settled
in and grab a bite to eat while he met with the man he'd contacted earlier. "This will take
about two hours at the very least," he said, heading towards the door, "but we'll be leaving
as soon as I return."
"We'll be ready," Shelley replied. Turning to me, she grinned. "This gives us plenty
of time to go shopping. Come on, I know this quaint little shop that has the most adorable
selection!"
Moments later, across town, Jonothan Darke walked into a local ice cream parlor,
carrying a black leather satchel. Ignoring the patrons in line, he walked through the crowd
and made his way to the back rooms, and entered a door marked 'Private'. A large, middle-aged,
heavy-set man sat behind a desk, cleaning his fingernails with a letter opener. He continued
to work on his nails, acknowledging the visitor with a slight nod of his head. "Have a seat,"
he said coolly, gesturing to an old, worn, leather recliner lying against the far wall.
"No thanks, I'll stand. I'm rather pressed for time, so if we can just move this along?"
The man laughed, dropping the letter opener onto the desk. "A man that comes directly
to the point. I like that. Now, before we do business, there are a few things we need to
take care of---"
"I'm not the police, Raoul," Darke broke in impatiently, "if that's what you're worried
about. I've done business with you for the past seven years, just not directly. If it will
speed this along, you can sweep me for concealed weapons and listening devices. I just want
this done as soon as possible."
"You don't beat around the bush do you?" Raoul said, getting to his feet. "Okay, then,
hold still."
Checking him thoroughly, the arms dealer nodded in satisfaction. "Okay, you're clean.
C'mon. Follow me back to my store room." Moving aside a file cabinet, the man slipped inside
a small concealed portal, into a large chamber filled with stacks of gun crates and ammunition
boxes. Raoul opened a crate, and took out two specially equipped rifles with laser sights.
"These are the babies you asked for. Semi-automatic assault rifles, specially modified
for single shot or automatic firing. Flip the switch on the side up and you get single shot
sniper fire, accurate to .001 inch at a thousand yards. Flip it down, and you can unload a
thirty round cartridge in less than ten seconds. Oh, but that's not all!"
The dealer grabbed the gun by the handle along its barrel and pulled back on the
undercarriage. A loud click sounded. "Grenade launcher. It holds ten five-second charges,
capable of blowing through a Sherman tank." He clicked the rifle again, then handed it to
Jonothan. "Whew! Wish these things had been around back when I served in 'Nam. Maybe I might
have kept my left leg."
Jonothan nodded. "And the ammunition?"
"Just what you asked for," Raoul replied, kicking open another crate, filled with
small boxes of ammunition. "Viola! Ten thirty-round cartridges for rifles, five per gun,
and forty grenades. Enough for a small army."
Yes, Darke thought to himself, a VERY small army. An army of one.
"Looks good. I can work with this. Now, I believe we discussed a special package as
well, the 'fertilizer' and the 'blue plate specials'?"
Raoul laughed merrily. "Yes, yes, I have your package as well. Took a bit of doing to
get it ready in such a short about if time, but its just what you asked for."
Jonothan took the package, and tossed the black satchel to the arms dealer. "Excellent.
The money's all there, plus a little something extra. If I survive the next few weeks, I'll
see about doing business with you again in the future. Tell me, Raoul," he said, facing the
dealer, looking directly into his eyes. "Aren't you the least bit curious about why I wanted
all this equipment, or what I plan to use it for?"
"Not in the slightest. In this kind of business, the less I know about my client's
activities the better."
"Yes, probably true. Still, I would think you would be at least a LITTLE curious. After
all, with all the connections you have, and the technology at hand, it would be pretty easy
to find out... just in case problems occurred." Darke moved a bit closer, maintaining eye
contact with the dealer. "I know you do extensive background checks on all your clients, to
make sure they aren't undercover policemen. Even then, a person would have to have pretty
good references from people you know and trust to even get a personal meeting with you like
this. You're a very careful and cautious man. I'm sure you could find out just about anything
you wanted to know, if you put your mind to it."
"Yeah, well," he stammered, looking uncomfortable, "I suppose I could... if I had to.
In the interest of self-preservation, of course."
"I thought so." Jonothan took another step forward, standing less than a foot away from
Raoul. "A well-connected man like yourself remember if he, or any of his 'friends' in the
trade, had sold equipment similar to this, say, in the past six months?"
Raoul blinked, then blinked again. He shook his head, suddenly feeling lightheaded and
dizzy. "Y-y-yeah, I would remember... I mean, yeah, this kind of hardware isn't exactly what
your average street thug uses."
"Great. Good man." Darke placed a hand on Raoul's shoulder. "Do me a big favor, and
check with people. Let me know if anyone's purchased an order like mine." Reaching down, he
placed the guns and ammunition back into the crate, and, placing it on his shoulder, walked
to the door. "I'll be in touch with you, hopefully, sometime tomorrow evening. Have the
information ready for me by then."
"Yes, yes, of course," Raoul said, nodding, staring into space, a grin frozen on his
face." Sighing, Jonothan Darke left, using the back entrance out to the taxi waiting. Drops
of crimson blood dripped steadily from his nose, and he cursed softly at the stain on his
white silk shirt.
Damn. It's getting worse. Every time I tap into the River it poisons me mind, body,
and soul. If I don't do something soon, it will consume me fully. Memories of what occurred
in the underground laboratory in London were fresh in his mind, and he shuddered slightly.
I'm going to put an end to this. Somehow, someway, She is going to be stopped. I won't
let her madness infect me again. I REFUSE to lose myself to the black ecstasy of the River
ever again!
Stepping into the taxi, he turned to driver. "Back to the Marriott, Steven," he said,
taking out his cell phone, and a list of New York hospitals.
Mistress Shelley and I returned from a wonderful day of shopping. We'd bought dresses
for any occasion, from a simple night on the town, to a formal dinner date with dignitaries
of State. We'd even stopped by a rather risque shop and stocked up on a supply of sexual toys
and tools for our amusement. Not that we'd get a chance to use then anytime soon. Whatever
Shelley and Mr. Darke were involved in, time was in short supply. Times for fun and recreation
would be few and far between. Still, I relished the chance to trying them out for Mistress
once all this was over.
Mr. Darke was waiting for us back in the room when we arrived. "We're back. Were you
waiting long?" Shelley asked, dropping the bags by the closet door.
"No, I just returned myself. I did some checking, and found out where she's being kept.
Cabrini Medical Center has her listed as 'Yashmak Kepp', and she in the intensive care ward.
It seems that after being released few days ago she had an accident and had to be rushed
back to the hospital again. I'd like to get to her, soon, before anything else happens."
"Alright," Shelley replied. "What do you need us to do?"
"I need you with me. Just in case. Tapestry is pretty much a neutral observer in the
struggles between Ancients, but still, you never know how she might react. There's her human
friend to consider; no doubt he's keeping vigil over her bedroom. And then, of course,
whomever put her in the hospital in the first place might still be out there." He tossed the
Mistress a large, brown wrapped package. "Grab that. I'll fix it along the way."
"Um." I spoke, causing his gaze to fall on me. His eyes, a dark brown, seemed to glow
a lighter, hazel color for just a moment. For a split second. It seemed vaguely familiar
somehow---
"Yes, Mary," he said impatiently. "What is it?"
"I... I... was just wondering what you wished ME to do," I stammered. Beads of sweat
began to drip from my forehead. Why, I couldn't guess. Something about the full focus of his
gaze sparked some deeply hidden memory in me, something deep and dark that made my pulse race
and my breathing quicken.
"You, my dear, Mary, are to stay here for now. Assuming this meeting is successful, I'll
be needing your strength and purity to revitalize me. And if this turns out to be a disaster,
then I'll need you to deliver a message for me." He places his hand gently against my cheek
and closed his eyes. His Touch.... oh God his Touch---
Heat. Burning. Scaling, sinking into my flesh, into every pore, every cell, of my
being, filling me, cleansing me... tempering me. A hot piece... metal in a fiery forge...
ready... willing.... eager to be reshaped, remade...a hot piece... a piece of ass... dripping
wet snatch... volcanic, pussy juices flowing like lava, scalding, burning, searing a path
straight through me... OH FUCK! BURNING! SO WET SO FUCKING WET MYGODMYGODHISTOUUUCCHHHH
---and I was looking up at the ceiling, panting deeply, my clothes wet with perspiration
and smelling of sex. I was lying on the bed. Glancing to the side, I saw Mr. Darke... no... I
remembered now. MASTER. My Master. My Universe. My Living God Made Flesh. How could I have
ever forgotten that?
"Master," Shelley was saying, gently wiping His bleeding face. "Master, you shouldn't
have used your Touch! You know how much accessing the tainted River damages you. You're
starting to bleed from your eyes now as well."
"I know. But it couldn't be helped. I needed to implant my message to D'Amber, should
this meeting go awry. Your talent is growing, Shelley, but this was far beyond you." He glanced
down at me with a wry grin. "Besides, its time she returned fully into the fold. Mary, love,
stay here. If you don't hear from me in three days, well... you know what to do."
I nodded softly. Somehow, I understood. Knowledge flowed freely through my mind now.
The Dragon. The tainted River. The ongoing search for the True Serpent. And a message, meant
for her eyes and ears alone, should anything befall my Master.
Master, and Mistress, carrying the package he'd given her, went to the door. I watched
them leave, wondering if I'd ever see them again. I remembered my musings earlier as we'd
landed at the airport. I'd wondered what was going on, not knowing where we were heading or
even why, but just trusting everything to work out alright in the end. Now, blessed with His
Touch, I knew what was going on. Yet, all I could so was to continue to hope that things would
turn out alright in the end.
We all have our own little trials to face.
Reaching for the remote, I switched on the television.
Stopping off from the airport exit, Jonothan called the cab to a halt. "Damn cell phone
went dead. Hold on, I need to call the hospital one more time before we arrive. I'll be just
a moment."
Depositing the coins, Jonothan dialed the number of the hospital. He waved to Shelley
in the taxicab as he waited for a dial tone. A tiny prickling feeling started on the back of
his neck, and he frowned, wondering where he had felt something like this before. Then,
suddenly, it hit.
RAVAGE.MURDER.DEATH.PAINPAINPAINPAINPAIN!!!
Gasping, back arched painfully, Jonothan sank to his knees, feeling the Great River
strike him full force like a tsunami wave, threatening to wash him away into oblivion. The
darkness inside him flourished, and his Power lashed out uncontrollably in all directions,
aimlessly, spreading the taint, the blackness of his soul, into the nearest living vessels
around. Grass, trees, shrubs, plant life of all kinds withered and died in mere seconds all
around him, spreading out in a rough circle. The blackness surged again, and he felt himself
drowning in it, struggling to maintain control. Blood gushed freely from his mouth and nose,
dripping like tears from his eyes. Just as he felt himself about to go under once more, he
heard Shelley's familiar voice.
"Master!"
She was running, coming to him. Running to help him, comfort him. Touch him.
SHIT!
Summoning all of his strength and will, he forced the blackness back down again, seeking
his balance, whipping his Power back under control, before Shelley felt its poisoned sting.
Her hand touched his own, as she grabbed him, helping him back to his feet. When she didn't
wither up into dry dead leave, he let out a sigh of relief.
"Jon, are you alright?" she asked anxiously, worry etched deeply into her face. "What
the hell was that? I felt... something. Like a pulse of... of... I don't know. It felt like
someone kicked me in the gut." She caressed his cheek gently. "I'd guess that whatever it was,
it hit you a lot harder than it hit me."
"You... have no idea..." he managed, still trying to regain his breath. "I think that
was... the Great River. Whatever's happening... it's all coming to a head. I think... I think
we just felt the Beast being borne into this world---"
A buzzing sound caught his attention, and picking up the dropped phone receiver, he
placed it to his ear. Voices were speaking in the background, but indirectly, as if whomever
had answered the phone had dropped it suddenly and rushed off. He could just barely make out
the words.
"...code blue, code blue, room 124! Patient in cardiac arrest. Code blue, code blue!
Emergency team to room 124, stat! I repeat, patient in cardiac arrest..."
Darke slammed the phone down on the cradle, and grabbing Shelley's arm, ran to the taxi.
"Come on! We have to hurry! Driver, Cabrini Medical, and step on it!"
"What is it? What's wrong?" Shelley asked in a panic-filled voice. "I thought you were
okay?"
"I'm okay. I'll live. But if we don't hurry, the patient in room 124 won't. She's in
cardiac arrest!"
"Who? Who's in cardiac arrest?"
Darke gripped the seat tightly, so tight that his fingers tore through the leather,
finding the padding underneath. Staring straight ahead, he answered in a rough strained
voice.
"Yashmak Kepp. Tapestry. She's dying."
{{{The End}}}