TAG ALL OF YOU ARE IT TAG, sucka!!!! Double tag, now I am hiding And I see you hiding in that corner, TAG!! I'm not hiding I am invisible. <creeping behind you slowly> TAG YOUR IT! (She has her prey in site. He may be invisible, but she can smell his fear, his racing heartbeat pounding strong and clear in her ears. He is careless, too proud and sure of his invincibility. She springs into the air, pouncing!) TAG!!!!! He has been hit, a little shaken but not hurt, he can taste sweet revenge in his mouth, and it waters for the opportunity to slowly stalk his prey. He sees her, standing, gloating of her triumph. He waits, closely, anticipating her every move. He waits, becoming her, feeling her thoughts. He waits his breath slow and methodical. He waits, she makes on small gesture and he knows this is it... TAG The little animal has become desperate. He is foaming at the mouth and she knows she must take him out quickly. In all her time as a Slayer, she had never seen a beast this hungry, bent on tagging like some kind of rabid TPT queen at a blue light special. This could get ugly if she didn't do something fast. Where'd she put that cattle prod? TAG!!! He has been branded. He touches the mark and her smell wafts through his nose like a pungent reminder of his lust for revenge. The scare triggers memories of her piercing eyes that remain immortalized in his mind. He searches for her, tracking her every move. He sleeps next to her studying her thoughts. She is alone now, standing gazing at the night. Wondering why all this time has passed and no sign of her victim. He appears in front of her taunting her; she knows not what to do, to proud to run too scared to stay. Caught like a dear in the glaring headlights that are his eyes she gasps. With one swift move he closes in for the kill, tag your it His anticipation is over taking him as he sits still waiting the time in which she strikes. Or is this the end? Has he triumphantly overtaken her, or is she waiting quietly in the dark plotting her next big move. So he waits, as the beads of sweat glisten of his forehead, running down his cheek. He waits... He surprised her. She did not realize he had it in him after her last attack. He would carry her mark for the rest of his days, his assaults on her, mental or physical, rendered ineffectual, more or less. They still hurt. She could feel him prodding her mind from time to time. Like now. She tried to strengthen her barriers, but wormed his way around them. Their minds battled, each unable to move. He worked on her paranoia, tweaked her panic response, and tried to convince her it would be over soon, that he would retreat. Just when her conscious mind was ready to believe his slippery persuasions, her instinct and intuition slammed into him, shutting him and his lies out and locking the door. She came out of what seemed like a dream, picking up the traces he'd left behind in her head and found him, still unconscious...TAG. He lies motionless on the floor. To weak to get up, he falls deep into the hole of despair. Feeling defeat his life fades in front of him. He lays there breathless. She kneels, knowing she has defeated him She sits. She weeps of joy but yet sorrowed to think it is over. She notices the glow of his skin in the moonlight, an honorable opponent she remembers. She touches his face with a newfound passion. Wishing this time had not come she regrets the actions she has taken. Like a vice grip, he grabs her arm. Ice cold is his grip stinging her to the bone. He gasps one last breath and mutters Tag your it. .. she is stunned , the lights turn on she is puzzled it was a dream . She looks around to find the window left open, the drapery waving in the breeze. She approaches the windows to see his footprints disappear in the muddy yard below. Her mission is clear... she must find him. The tag is in her hands now. Soon, so soon... She walks through the day as if it were less real than the dream she had last night. In a way it is. Her fingers go through the motions of typing, her brain automatically conjuring the words like a game, but her very soul is consumed with one thing. Him. She can feel him, prowling along the outskirts of her psyche. He is resting, spent from their combat, gathering strength. She can hear him breathing, growling in his fitful slumber. He dreams of her, tasting the salting sweetness of her tears. He waits for night too. In spite of herself, she reaches for the chain around her neck. Pulling it out of her shirt, she fingers the object that hangs on the slight silver thread. "Tag, You're it," she whispers. Lunging out of his restless sleep from a light touching to his chest he see nothing but knows she was there. Not physically, she has embarked on a connection he always knew was there, but never dared to open. The game has become life, reality the supernatural. He sits and speaks to her in only a voice she can recognize. He whispers comforting messages of peace and love. Soothing her into a sleepy existence, he meets her there. She knows this voice but does not realize the danger she is in. They are surrounded by light, fear is erased from her consciousness, joy overwhelms her soul. She feels comfortable it this strangers arms. He caresses her neck. He embraces her bosom. She feels passion in his touch and she mutters the question Why me? You are my chosen one... the light goes black. Pain and suffering slam into her body. Thrusting her down holding her tight, constricting her breath. She tries to scream. The words form on her lips but the darkness engulfs all. Nothing can penetrate this loneliness... In the distance, she hears a cackling laughter, which brings back fears of her childhood. Tag your it is whisper so close to her face she can fell the pulsating rhythms of his breath. All goes light again as she find herself in a pool of sweat. **7:30** The alarm clock glares red at her. Disoriented, she cannot remember or decide if it is morning or night. Slowly it comes back to her. She had made it through work, come home and collapsed on the bed. And it started. As the images of the dream came back to her, flickered to life behind her eyelids, her heart started to race. The comfort of his arms, feeling her cares melt into his voice, the luxury of forgetting the life she was called to, and then his brutal betrayal, the bone deep ache. How dare he? How dare he! His probing had made her weak. She should have known he would try this. Damnit. She would let her defenses down, may as well have invited him in. All of a sudden she is chilled and realizes the sheets are soaked. She sits up, preparing herself for tonight's hunt. Resolve washed over her, a balm to the stings he had inflicted, the old wounds he had opened. It would end tonight. She stood, closed her eyes, and reached across their newly open link to his unsuspecting mind. "TAG, fucker!!" Two can play this little game. Now for a shower. He laughs as he gets her timely little message. She has fallen, too angry is she. Too caught up in her emotions. Her head is clouded. The shower she is taking is only a false relief from what is now become apparent. It shall end tonight. But not in the way she shall expect. Unbeknown to her she will be his, his to control his to rule the world. So many prey, if he can not defeat her, she shall join him. If not she must perish. He contemplates his attack... he appears sitting in the corner of her room. Cloaked in his robe. He pears out from his hood his ice blue eyes haunt her, yet excite her. Her nipples go erect from the pure electricity in the air. With out his lips parting he calls to her, seducing her again. She fights but the passion is too strong. She goes to him cautiously he pulls her close. His grip strengthens. Sweetly he kisses her neck and tells her she's this.. This will be your last ... the robe falls to the floor leaving her naked and alone. She turns around and catches a glimpse of the clouded mirror... TAG. You will be mine. She knows what he wants from her now. Power. He cannot exist without it, without her. He is strong in his own right, one of the most powerful, but he is greedy, and his greed has turned him into a parasite. She knows now. He drains his victims of anything they have to offer. Blood, magic, knowledge, love. Her gift is the Slaying. The power to hunt to Darkness. It may not be enough to keep her alive, but she does have an advantage. She has marked him, a scar even he can't heal. Because she gave it not out of triumph and disdain, but of love. He thinks her emotions are a source of weakness. But they are her greatest strength, her ballast in this frightening life. He believes he can rule the world, rule her, but he only deceiving himself. Touching the tag, she envisions their final battle. She is ready. Tag. His greatest fear has come upon him. His love for the power, his love for the girl has over come his better judgment. So she thinks. He is frail in his actions almost giving up the kill to her, she can't be suspicious he must not let he know. Giving up himself to her relinquishing his soul would only free the power to become one. His greatest triumph over her will come in there greatest defeat. He visits her in his mind one more time. This time she is waiting. She sits coolly, almost mocking his existence. He stands erect in front of her, extends his hand. She shakes from anticipation of what is to come. TAG your are finally it ... he collapses to her feet with exhaustion. This will be an easy kill she thinks as sharp pain races through her spine. She can feel him, he has entered he soul. She can feel it eating away as they merge to become one power one existence.... Laughter echoes in her mind. They are now one, her body the vessel in which his mind could now have. I am IT. Oh, Goddess, what is happening? My prey has taken the bait. With her body to control, I will be ever triumphant. Her body I caress wholly from the inside. Her warmth brings me overwhelming joy. I revel in her pain and anguish. My scenes tingle with he notion of her being. As I tag every part of her soul our minds intertwine and become one. She feels alien in her own body. She goes to the mirror, uncertain of what she will see. The face looking back at her is vaguely familiar, yet when she moves, it moves. Am I still me? She wonders. His presence in her body, in her soul has turned her inside out. She can hear him snickering at her confusion in some far off corner of her brain. Realizing she can still distinguish between herself and his invasive mind, she fights to maintain a hold on her identity. Aloud, she carefully and slowly enunciated her name, listed all the facts she knew about herself, all the things she knew to be hers alone. Then, still gazing at her reflection in the mirror, she removed her clothes, piece by piece, until she stood naked. "Mine," she whispered. She could tell he was no longer so amused. Now she sensed his confusion. Ah, yes, he had not counted on this. She made her way to the kitchen, taking longer as usual since the bastard had figured out how to take over a few of her motor skills. Rummaging through drawers, she retrieved a crescent moon shaped cookie stamp. Turning on the gas stove, she held it over the flame. Bracing herself, calming herself, she brought the stamp to the flesh of her inner thigh. Screams of pain mingled with the scent of burning skin. Collapsing to her knees, she crawled to the sink, where she managed to find a dishcloth. Pulling herself up, she soaked the rag in cool water and held it to her thigh, relief flooding her body and emotions. Sensing his anger, she braced herself for his mental onslaught with a smile. "I tag myself. You can't have me." As she lies there on the cold kitchen floor, calmness comes over her. The same boner chilling laughter that has haunted her for months is closer. Can she really be becoming him? In the flesh? She feels a presence standing above her. She slowly gazes up to see the once collapsed body standing firmly above her. He some how floated mystically around her. What is this? She does not understand. " My child, the only struggle you have is with your own inner self." He whispers as he stands with over whelming presence. She looks at the newly branded mark upon her leg and cries. You see for you have tagged yourself for me. My best victory. You will be mine when your own battle lines have been torn down. No use in wasting my energy on you when you can expend it for me. In one swift move, he was gone, out of sight but not out of her conscious mind. One week later- She had recently found out about the others. How many more had he seduced with those eyes? Her emotions were at war. She did not know if she was jealous or felt sorry for the poor girls. He could not help but brag. Her flesh still raw, he crouched over her, his nose twitching, as the smell of burned skin mingled with that of her arousal at his nearness. His eyes shifting colors. That is how she could tell that he was lying. In his truest form, he was almost human, solid and still. However, when he was trying to circle around her, confuse her, he was like stained glass toying with fickle sunlight. A kaleidoscope. Yes, the bastard had boasted of all of his other conquests as her leg throbbed from her new wound. It still throbbed faintly, seven days old. It reminded her of her desperation. Of what he'd nearly driven her to. It was midnight, and she patrolled almost mechanically, her senses automatically tuned to find the demons, the nightmares that took shape. For him. Am I like all the others to him? A toy? I who know my own strength and my destiny? He tried to fool me. Did he actually believe what he was saying? Could he be so blind? For such a powerful Magi, how could he be so shortsighted? As she walked, she could feel her new scar warm with a different glow. As it healed, it flowed with a different energy, boundless and mutable. And he thought it marked as his? A small laugh escaped her chest. He didn't even know. His power has been tainted by her sweet kiss. Her pure knowledge of the power has clouded his vision of total anialation. She won't give of her self easily, so he must take another approach. One of passion, playfulness. She must see him as a stranger again. Like the ice-cream man, he must tempt her all over. Regain her trust and not falter this time. For this, he must become someone else. Disappear for a while and reunite with his love in a different skin than his own. But the one portal to his soul he must change for sure. He assumes his new form and meets her in the park where it all began. He introduces himself and she smiles. He reaches out to touch her hand and she reluctantly accepts. His touch is familiar, but nothing comes to mind. They walk down the trail. Tails of his childhood is the topic. His favorite games as a child. Hide and seek. Tag rings in her head... Him the ever-lasting impression of the tagger is there. On your mind 24/7 permanently tattooed to your flesh. He is waiting for the next move or is this checkmate? New love arrives, and nagging familiarity pecks at the back door of her mind. She knows this is dangerous. Holding him at bay is becoming more difficult feels artificial. But being near him makes sense. He looks at her like he expects her to do something, waiting. She acts only to disappoint him sometimes, to throw him off. Sometimes she dreams she is his pet, wearing a collar of soft leather. It is exciting. He restrains her gently at first, but the collar grows tighter and the leash shorter and she wakes wrapped in damp sheets. Each time she sees him, she approaches warily; gradually letting the night's images melt away and drip from her fingertips. One night in his arms she drifts into another dream. Her feet find soft marshy ground, and carry her quickly into the river that loves her. She is the only one, only one and she hears rough hoarse shouts behind her, and whistle calls. She is hunted, she turns before the current takes her into its arms, and sees him. His eyes are on her, then his hands. She can't fight; her legs have already joined in her tail. She feels the metal go into her lip and the pressure and the pain. "Tagged you!" She wakes to the taste of blood. He has become comfortable with in his new character. Alternatively, is this the person who his old shell would not let him be? He is complacent with his demeanor. He must not have this her trust is a key to his happiness but her fear is the source of his power. He holds her soul near his body her heart in his throat. He cries tears of her blood. Her pain is reflected in the torment upon his flesh. She is getting close to him in a way he ever thought possible. He must remain in the outer reaches of her mind. Hidden in shadows he will wait for her. In her dreams, he will become reality. "Tag my lady, this is the game of your life. Run, for I will find you. Hide so you can be found. Scream for there is no one to hear you. You are in my domain." She is frightened and clings to the new presence in her life. He smiles. Her fear will become his greatest strength. He has been sitting patiently. Waiting for them to strike but to no avail, nothingness has over come him. Are they tormenting his mind with the pure anticipation of the attack? Alternatively, have they caught on to his whimsically fantasy and turn the other way? Damn them for giving up so easily. If this is how it should be, he must make another move. Or has he wounded his opponents so badly that they can not strike again. Fatally wounded in mind, body and soul. He leaves his place of comfort to seek out his prey. Longing for the battle he lurks in the shadows, awaiting what now has become a mutual-mating dance of intrigue. He is tired of waiting his hunger consumes him. He goes out in search of her. She doesn't want to be found but he will get her. She is consumed in this beautiful day. Sitting at a local coffee shop she sits sipping her latte' reading the morning paper. A sharp crash to the ground her cup flies off the table. The world goes to slow motion as she feels her chest receive a sharp slash. One swift move she is gashed. Screaming in pain, she looks around her to see if anyone notices her torment. No one seems to her cries, see her pain. She look surround frantically but the rest of the world as seemed to turn their eyes away from her, as if she didn't exist anymore. Terrifying laughter fills her head and surrounds her. Insanity never felt so normal till now. In the shadows she sees him standing, amused by her torment. " Damn you" she screams in terror. " You little girl, did you think you could forget me?" She lies there motionless. The very air chills on her lips at the touch to her icy lips. This time has he gone too far? Is this no longer a game but a stark reality that has manifested itself into a bleak existence. Has he let the excitement of the hunt become a bloodthirsty kill? Where will it end? She has to wake. He kneels beside her; tears begin to swell in his throat. Reality has no place in his mind; his soul has become lost in a sea of emotions. Will this be his finally victory? Will it bring him his greatest defeat? He slowly reaches down towards her and softly whispers to her... "Tag my sweetest one, it seems you are now it forever."
