The Darkest Defiance Ch 01

Good day guys!

This story is geared toward action and storytelling at first rather than sex. But there will be plenty of it down the road, and hopefully it will be totally worth it since it will probably be (mostly) sex oriented and character-driven. I would also warn that this story is a bit dark. It will have buildup, but that is only to set the scene and tell a little bit about their world.

Constructive criticism is welcome; I have a thick skin! :) Ambiguous negative comments, however, don't help writers or readers.

Anyways, enjoy!

U/U

*****

God, the night was beautiful.

I tucked my teleportation crystal in my bra, wincing at the cool mineral against my skin. I looked up at the calm blue, feeling strangely tiny in comparison to the small orbs that hung like wreaths in the ebony sky. Our three moons were out: Jabon, Cseris, and Demetri. They looked particularly massive tonight. Demetri hung like a dark blue portrait, large in size compared to the rest of her siblings. The stars blazed like tiny lit candles.

I peered over the lip of the dumpster I was crouching in. I grimaced at a nice looking casino brightly suggesting the possibility of a jackpot using a god-forbidden-piece-of-crap membership card. A sign read:

Buy a card today, and be a winner for life!

Another sign blazed in the night, advertising a strip club a few blocks down the street. In the distance I could hear the static of bad radio reception stuck on a polka station. It seemed like the whole town was desolate...for the most part.

What

really

caught my attention was the blazing houses that glittered in the distanced like lanterns. Columns of belching smoke rose from the city, creating a trail that led to the heavens. When I listened past the static and music, I could hear gun shots along with the high-pitched tones of a police car. I didn't have time to appreciate the beauty of Sheril, because it looked like Sheril was having a come apart. Literally.

I frowned, looking at my partner beside me. His foot was stuck in a milk crate. He glanced at me, a bewildered look on his face. He shoved his crystal inside his jacket and glared. I shrugged. He didn't seem happy to be here. But then again, neither was I.

My boss, Chad, sent me on a mission that would include a lot of money if I was successful. I knew this place had some issues, but I honestly didn't think it was going to be

that bad.

Something exploded, rocking the ground underneath us. A shadow—or rather, an object—fell from the sky and landed in front of me with a dull thud. It looked like...a foot?

I just stared at it, not really sure why it was there. My brain didn't process it; it was just too disturbing. But when it did, though, the horror sunk in and all I could think was

oh crap.

Nausea twisted my stomach, causing my ears to ring. I peered over the edge of what I was hiding in, my vision slightly blurry.

Holy living hell.

My day just couldn't get any better. I listened to the loud

kerplunk kerplunk

of other body parts as they fell from the sky, hitting the street in front of me. Something

else

exploded in the distance, shaking the ground underneath me, rattling me around in the grimy dumpster like my partner's tiny brain in his stubborn head. That said partner poked me in the ribs, trying to get my attention.

"I see it," I grunted, just about as incredulous as he was. I blinked at the neon lights of the casino.

Smoke filled the alleyway we were in, threatening to choke the life out of us. I coughed and spluttered, pulling the end of my shirt over my nose. I pushed my partner out of the dumpster because he was

way

too close for comfort. He fell over the lip and crashed to the ground. I looked over the rim to stare into deep sea-green eyes that were livid.

"What. The hell. Was

that?"

"An explosion," I said obviously. I threw a leg around the bin and jumped.

"No, I mean, why the hell did you—"

Somebody screamed in the distance, cutting his question off.

Raymond probably was pissed off because our teleportation spell decided to spit us into the garbage. But it wasn't

me

who set the damn location; it was

him

, so I didn't know why he was angry. Out of all the places to hide—the roofs, the subway, the freaking convenient abandoned building next to us—why did he pick a

dumpster

? Sometimes I didn't get his logic. Or, sometimes I didn't get why he didn't think this shit through. I grunted and continued to stare at our beautiful moons, not wanting to take on this mission. But damn, that money though.

"Shut up for a second, please. I can't hear. I

think

we are close to our destination."

"And what exactly are we listening for?"

I looked at him as if he were incompetent. But of course, I didn't tell him why we were here; I only told him where we were going. "Blatant screeching. Metallic groans. Blood-curdling screams. You know, that sort of thing."

Raymond just stared at me, his brown hair twisted and snarled into the world's worst hairdo. His hands were covered in potion residue, and his boots were scuffed from catching himself on the asphalt from when I pushed him out of the rubbish bin. He twisted his lips and wrinkled his nose in abhorrence. His eyes were also unfocused for some reason.

And he was still staring at me.

I looked down at the origin of his gaze, and pulled my top up before my puppies tumbled out. For a moment I felt aggravated, but I had to remind myself that he was a guy, and guys liked looking at women's tits. I cursed myself for wearing a white shirt.

"I can see your..." he began, looking away when I caught him ogling.

"You can see my what? Nipples? Areolas? I

know

; it's bloody cold out here," I said, covering my chest and sighing. I really hoped he didn't gawk if I had to run. Because they did get a bit...wiggly when I ran.

I wasn't too worried about giving Raymond a free show, mostly because he owned his own sex slaves, so I knew he wasn't desperate enough to come after me, nor was he sexually starved. Even though I packed a C and a nice butt in denim, not even

he

wanted a piece of this. Maybe because the last man that tried ended up hanging out of a three story window.

And sometimes he had a bad habit of forgetting that.

"You know, that may be slightly..." Raymond said, his eyes flashing to my chest and away, completely interrupting my thoughts. And his ogling pissed me off, because we were supposed to be focusing on

not dying

and succeeding on this mission

.

I smoothed my skirt over my legs and blushed slightly. It was way too damn chilly to be wearing this kind of stuff.

"Distracting? Look. I don't want your shit...or whatever you think you have. Got it?"

"Whatever I

think

I have?" He sounded offended. "I have plenty, thank you very much." He grabbed himself lewdly.

"

Right

. Let's worry about something else, shall we? Maybe something like

what the fuck just exploded out there?

You picked a horrible place to transport to, by the way," I grumbled, picking off a piece of whatever the hell was in my hair. It was orange and sticky and just major

ew.

"Where else could we hide—"

"Somewhere besides a dumpster?"

"Oh, okay. The

sewer

then

?"

And yea, maybe he had a point there.

Just as I was about to smart something off, we heard it: a loud, gut-clenching screech that made me fall to my knees. I pressed my hands over my ears. I grunted, sure that I busted an eardrum. Raymond fell on his back, writhing in agony. Birds scattered from the rooftops, melting into the night sky. Windows cracked and shattered from the nearby stores, popping shards of glass onto the street. When the screeching simmered down to a guttural yowl, I looked up at the bright moons above, wondering how I was still alive after that. My ears rang a high-pitched buzzing sound.

What the heck was happening here?

But I knew what was happening. And if we didn't do something about it soon, we were toast.

"Bloody hell—"

"You hear that?" I asked, listening to a car speeding off in the distance. We just looked at each other. He looked vaguely ill, and it was sort of hard to hear him after that loud noise. My own voice sounded like it was under water.

"If you don't tell me what the fuck is going on right now—"

"Are you an idiot? What the hell does that...scream sound like to you?" I asked, referring to the demonic screeching.

I smiled a little bit, feeling rather good about myself. Yea, I might have dragged him out here without telling him what the mission was, but he sort of deserved it. And besides, if I would have told him, he would have declined the mission in a heartbeat.

"It sounds like..." Raymond trailed off, lost in thought.

Then his mouth popped open. "No...no. No. No, no, no. You cannot be serious. You..." Raymond seemed unresponsive then, his eyes bugging out and his face turning a deep purple. I found this funny, but I also found this a little disgusting. Shouldn't a man be better equipped for shit like this?

"You were the one who wanted to check out the 'mysterious disappearances'. Didn't you happen to notice that all of them were

female?

You can't be that stupid, dude. I took the mission

as soon

as Chad offered it. Don't act like you don't know! You were the one bitching!"

"You..." He repeated, stumbling back a step. His face turned slightly green. And then red. And then back to purple again. "You..."

"That's why I told you to bring more Ammo...not that it would help."

He blinked. I stared back, waiting for him to snap. I waited. And...waited. He seemed frozen, his face alight with blatant fury and confusion. I waved my hand in front of his face, wondering if he was in some kind of trance or spell. I muttered a few words under my breath, focusing my energy, making sure that he

wasn't

under a spell. But no, he was just really, really pissed.

Yea, I didn't blame him for being upset. I only told him two things: here's where we are going, and here's the money for your trouble. My boss Chad was the one who offered the job, and I took it and volunteered Raymond without him knowing it. Chad was pretty angry at me for taking it; for one, I was a woman, and two, the creatures we were investigating loved to

eat

women. Needless to say, he isn't expecting us to come back.

And apparently neither is Raymond.

He charged forward.

"You

idiot!

I didn't mean I actually wanted to take this mission! It's a suicide mission! Why didn't you tell me? You are so lucky you aren't one of my hapless slaves coiling underneath my feet! I would bend you over my knee and beat the living hell—"

"Aw, come on. You know you wouldn't do that."

"—out of you until you are a sobbing slop of—of—I don't know!

Are you mad?

Are you trying to get us killed? What were you thinking bringing us to a freaking—"

"Don't say it. You know what happens when you say their names."

"I can say it if I want to! It doesn't matter; we are so fucked. Bend me over, Chrissy. Fuck me over, Chrissy. Have your way with me, Chrissy. 'Cause it seems like you don't care! It doesn't matter anymore! How could you bring me to a—"

"Don't name the creature. If it hears you, which it most definitely will, it will be here quicker than two jiggles of your slave Cheale's fun bags," I said, smirking a little at that one. His slave actually sold for half a million over them. When I first found out, I was surprised Raymond had that sort of money.

And

really shocked that he was that damn shallow.

"I don't care anymore! And I can say it if I want to! Blaise! Blaise, Blaise, Blaise. Fuck it!"

"Now you've done it," I said, hearing another scream in the distance. Raymond covered his mouth and looked around him. His face flushed. He grabbed a pistol from his trench coat, knowing that it probably wouldn't do him any good, and ran for the parked car on the side of the road.

"Raymond! That isn't going to work! You can't hide in a car!" I shouted, knowing that yelling would only give away our location, but figured we were screwed anyway.

"I am getting the heck out of here!"

"No, you aren't," I said, running to catch up to him. I grabbed him by the jacket collar and shook him. He looked like he was about to shove me off, but something about my expression kept him from doing so. He turned white when he recognized my 'Chrissy is about to fucking lose it' face. "You are going to load your gun. We are going down that street, and we are going to see how many of them are here. We are going to help anyone we can. We

aren't

going to run away, because we aren't pussies. Are you a pussy, Raymond?"

"There aren't such things as pussies when Satan's minions are after you!"

"You know Satan is the dark lord of Earth. Newsflash: this isn't Earth!"

"But you freaking drug me here, and—you asshole! You inconsiderate asshole!" Raymond shouted in my face. I tried not to laugh, because, well, he was so pissed he couldn't even come up with a good comeback.

Just as I was about to shove him away from me, a loud crashing noise sounded in the night. The car Raymond was about to get in was now completely smashed, with some sort of body on it. I jumped back and gave a little screech, because it genuinely scared the hell out of me. Raymond's face paled a bit as he realized his death had been

so close.

I slowly walked up to the half-crushed car, peering over the top of the now smoking hunk of metal. On it was a body, probably female. Her face seemed fine, but the rest of her body was now unrecognizable. I covered my mouth with my hand, feeling the strange urge to vomit. I muttered a prayer under my breath. I looked at Raymond.

"Well, it was nice knowing you," Raymond said, sounding defeated. He didn't appear

too

disturbed, though, and neither was I; we have seen some pretty grisly shit over the years.

"We aren't dead yet," I reminded him, slowly backing away from the crime scene. "They should have been here by now."

"Hm."

"The body fell from that direction," I said, pointing down the street, my voice a tad bit sharper than what I intended. I ignored his question completely. "And I don't hear any more screaming, so that must be a good sign."

Raymond glowered at me, obviously annoyed at my calm stupor. But I couldn't do anything about that, because according to everybody who knows me—which is only a few people because I am not supposed to exist—I am insane. Which, generally speaking, is damn close to the truth.

In this world, there are three royal bloodlines: Rejourous, Arcadian, and Obsidian. Arcadian is the most royal, and there are only two of them in the whole universe that exists—they are related; one is the father, and the other is the son. And they are sort of Gods, too, so they don't appear very often, nor do they affiliate with any regulars like myself.

Rejourous is the most common sort of Royalty, which would equal out to one being an Earl or a Duke on earth. (Not that Earls or Dukes exist anymore). Obsidian is considered the worst, simply because they are bat shit crazy and utterly ruthless. They are known for importing sex slaves from earth and doing all sort of deviant, sadistic little sex acts with them purely for their own enjoyment. They are sadists, and aren't too kind to taking orders from anyone. They keep their women on leashes—literally—and even host royal balls only for the rich and oversexed, chaining their women to posts and delightedly torturing them for entertainment.

And here's the kicker: only males are born of that bloodline. There has never been a female Obsidian.

Until now.

Which was exactly why I had the world's worst attitude, and would be executed on sight if anybody knew what I was. Luckily, a guy named Chad (who is my boss) actually gave a shit about me, and took me in as soon as my father—Lord Jaron, the All Mighty Great and Powerful Whatever—secretly had me with the aid of some pretty freaky dark magic. My father had always dabbled into that stuff, and apparently a fertility spell backfired and out popped me. The council wanted to kill me and my mother, but Chad (who helped keep my father's sex slaves in check) ran off with me when I started hitting and biting the staff at age two. My father couldn't keep me a secret anymore, because I was wild and bloodthirsty, just like everybody else in my family. But I was

worse.

As I got older, it didn't get better. Hormones started to flow, and the need for sex and companionship grew. I was terrified, really, to get that close to somebody. So I took the lonesome road and made my handy-dandy Vibrator Plus my best friend. But even setting nine of ten couldn't satisfy me. Not emotionally, at least; I needed something more than that.

I could never form relationships with people, mainly because I was cursed; that's why Raymond has never come on to me. The last time

he

tried something, it felt like a bucket of gasoline had been poured over my head along with a blaze of flames. I remember panting on the ground with him screaming and hugging the wall, wondering what the hell just happened. He started screaming at me, demanding that I tell him what magic I was using to torture him. It was the worst pain I had ever felt—worse than that time I broke my butt bone falling off my motorcycle.

And breaking your backside knocks the breath out of you.

I went to a Dark Magic user named Felajo to figure out what was going on, and he said I

was

cursed. When I asked what he meant by that, he told me that somebody had placed a hex on me so that whoever I have physical, sexual contact with, would feel the worst kind of pain imaginable. He pondered over whether my father did it when I was younger so I couldn't procreate and make any more abominations. But he said masturbation was my only outlet, except that Obsidians are naturally very sexually active, and he gave me about a year before I caved and tried again.

So needless to say, I've been everywhere to try to lift the curse. There's this one guy in Juli, who supposedly knows how to rid of powerful hexes, but for the right price.

Which was exactly why I took this job.

"I don't care where the body fell from. I think our best bet is to stay indoors—"

"And do what? Twiddle our thumbs?" I asked.

"You are impossible," he grumbled, stalking off in the other direction. I followed him, scanning the rooftops for any source of movement. I could hear my heart beating now that my calm had worn off. I gritted my teeth, cursing myself for cutting my hair too short, because my bangs fell in my face and hindered my sight.

But what I saw was what I expected: random streaks of blood leading into houses, flickering street lamps, and the ever-present ominous haze of smoke. I held onto my gun a little tighter, feeling my palms tingle and become clammy. I bit my lip and concentrated on remaining composed. I could hear Raymond's harsh, uneven breathing beside me, juxtaposing my now calm intakes of breath.

"Chad said he wanted us to take a look at this place. He suspected it was the Bl—the creatures causing the mayhem, but he wasn't sure if it was some kind of mass hysteria. Now that I've heard the screams..." I trailed off, pushing my jet black bangs out of my face.

"Do you think they will..." Raymond swallowed and tried again. "Do you think they might

not

kill you?"

"What?"

"The Blaises. I know they prey on women, but don't you think they might

not

kill you? Or be, you know, reluctant to do so?"

"Are you stupid? What

don't

those creatures kill?"