Chapter Twenty-Eight
The Blackness III
It was so close. The Blackness could taste the meal it wanted at the edge of its reality. The dish of the meal, the ork with the metal arm, was near. Bottled up hate and betrayal that screamed for justice boiled beneath the surface. Yet it stood just out of its reach. Just outside of the thing's influence. It had tried to push, tried to coax the hand that would bring ecstasy to its vile existence.
It had been denied the meal each time. A force of will settled over its own influences, unwilling to move to the feast that it wanted. The Blackness found itself pushing for its feast from other sources, straining every moment of pain and anger that it could get before allowing its host to carry on.
They were only snacks. Small appetizers for the main course that eluded it. The will was too strong to break for the grand feast. A feast of vengeance and pain that the thing desired more than its own parasitic existence.
The Black thing stirred. It became aware that it was not alone.
The air had changed. There were gaseous things swimming around it. They twinged at its presence. As if unsure what this parasite was. Not quite knowing how to approach it. The Blackness reached out to them and found they recoiled from its touch. They feared it. They trembled at its very presence.
Yet they showed no such trepidation for its host. They were drawn to its host, sinking their tendrils into the lively aura. They wanted anchors. The Blackness snarled at them. It already had its anchors in this one. It was his host. Not theirs. It pulled at them to tear them away.
Then the dark thing stopped. There was a sensation that he was unfamiliar with. These things opened up new pathways into its host that it had not been through. Suddenly the vile thing of darkness saw things that it had not been privy too. It was only capable of manipulating from the outside. It was not able to peer inside.
They wanted to show something of his host. The Black thing wanted something else. It reached into the anchors that they had laid and added its own poison to the festering wound. All the while it smiled to itself.
It would have the meal it so desired after all. Yet the Black thing is a territorial creature. This new phenomon might have opened deeper canyons for it to sink its influence into, but it was not welcomed here. Not with it. It always preferred solitude.
So the blackness caste it out and set its own vile things into these new holes in which to dig.
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