A Dark Obsession 2

Sorry for the wait!

A Dark Obsession

The room smelled of sweat, blood and decay. Savannah had cover her mouth to keep from puking. Both fresh and dried blood marked the floor, giving it what seemed to be a red carpet. It was dimly lit, but she could just make out the form of an object.

A human.

Savannah stepped quietly, her boots making no sound on the floor. The air was cold in here, colder than it had been outside. Getting in here had been easy, the guards, the devoutes had been easy to handle, it was getting out that she was worried about. She just hoped that none of the devoutes saw her horse outside.

She had the perfect excuse now, having…taken, one of Rose and Kier’s horses, she now had a ticket out. People with that kind of information on her, people who knew what she was and her trade, were a danger to her. Get in, get the Chalice, get out, one simple plan.
Savannah couldn’t help but feel that guilt inside her chest about leaving Keir’s brother behind. But if it all worked out, perhaps Rose and Kier would have thought that she perished while trying to save Drake.

Something rattled, Savannah whipped around, but her eyes met darkness. A groan echoed the room. Savannah stopped breathing. Suddenly the lights flashed on, and she went with the darkness. A shadow walker, her kind was called, born and raised in the shadows.
A devoute with rotting teeth came forward into the room. His scalp was balding and he looked weak, he almost looked human. Almost. Except for that unnatural red glow in his eyes.

"What master needs food?" he crooned.

Savannah froze, thinking he was talking to her, but then relaxed when she realized it was impossible for him to see her in the shadows.
Savannah flinched when she heard a whip go off. A groan followed it. Savannah averted her eyes from the devoute to….

To him.

Hung up by his legs and hands, his chest and legs bare, except for a loin cloth wrapped around his middle. He was covered in slashes, marks, and blood oozed from the newest slash made.

Drake.

It was him.

She could not tell what he looked like, for in all, he was unrecognizable as both a human and a soul, was this Drake.

"Would the bastard like an eat?" the devoute hissed.

"Mistress tells Tyr to feed bastard, but Tyr tells Mistress he is undeserving," his evil laugh whipped through the air, "What does Mistress do?" the devoute went up to Drake and yanked him up by the hair, his eye was swollen, as was the rest of his face and his lip cut and bloodied. Savannah gasped.

"She slaps Tyr hard!" he yelled, punctuating his sentence with a strong blow to Drake’s face. Drake hissed at him. "Don’t question me, she says to Tyr." Limping over, the Devoute took a bowl in his hands, with what was filled with ghastly looking food.

"She says to Tyr to give the bastard food." He laughed again, that eerie crackle, "Here is food. Not Tyr’s fault if you can’t eat it." With that the devoute hunched out of the room.

Drake hung in his bonds.

This was torture. What in the 10 hells had he done to deserve this? He mentally gagged at the disgusting food the devoute had set in front of him. He couldn’t wait to get his hands on him and choke. He grinned at that, to end his life…in retaliation for the pain and torture they had put him through…

The anger, the power that welled up inside of him made him feel like he was about to lose control, each day, more and more torture, it was weakening him, it was getting harder to control the beast everyday. Soon, it would be set free and the whole world would have to pay the price.

He closed his eyes. Again, as soon as he did, colour and emotions filled him. His dreams were the only safe place, the only thing they could not take from him. In his dreams, he held a woman, one who would crave his touch and love him in return. Did it make him a fool to want to be loved? Did it make him weak?

Those with weaknesses were easier to pick off. But on the other hand, he did not want to be a cold mercenary like his father. He wanted to feel…to touch…to love.
A noise sounded to his left. Drake instantly tensed. He felt a presence, a warm presence.

He breathed the air.

Female.

He opened his swollen eyes carefully and saw her form. His head throbbed from the repeated bashings they gave him. His dreams didn’t do her justice. Was this the woman he had been pining for? The woman that literally haunted his dreams?

She stepped closer to him, she did not fear him like most others would.

"Where’s the chalice," she whispered.

Drake hardened against those words, the chalice, the chalice, everyone cared about the damn chalice.

She stood up slowly, as if minding her actions, "We do not have a lot of time." She said.

Oh, how he savored the sweetness of her voice, it was like a gentle wave washing over him. Was he a sap to take comfort in nothing other than her voice?

Savannah swallowed heavily. Was she an ice queen to treat him such? Any moral person in her position wouldn’t care about the chalice, about money, just about the hurt man in front of her. If she failed to bring the chalice, what would happen? She would be shunned, no doubt, her reputation, her cold hearted reputation that she had fought and stolen for all these years would come crashing down .

They would see her as weak.

And the weak never survived. Not in this world.

She didn’t have enough time, not enough to carry Drake and hunt for the chalice at the same time. She didn’t even know him, and yet, why oh why did she feel a strange connection with him?

A twist of the lock sounded behind her.

Someone was coming in.

That’s when she knew what choice she was going to make.

*******
Comments please!