The Shadow People

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Savannah is taken to a word of darkness and sensuality.
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Savannah opened her eyes and stretched languidly under her weighted comforter. The sun pierced through the slightly parted curtains and left a thick haze over her sleepy mind. Rolling over to her alarm clock, she was abruptly stopped by the shocking sight of the strange man lying beside her. He rested atop her blankets, trapping her under their encumbrance, with a lazy arm thrown across his eyes. Signs of stubble were appearing on his rigid chin, his russet hair grown out to his shoulders in tight curls. Long legs and thick muscular arms took up the majority of the space on the small twin bed, and Savannah suddenly felt cramped in her tiny place beside him.

Tentatively, she reached out one pianist finger to poke him in the shoulder. After a moment of stillness, she repeated the action. The big bulk beside her started shaking gently with amused laughter, and unexpectedly rolled over, tucking her tiny body under his much larger one. She squealed in mock fear and giggled loudly underneath his heavy weight, squirming in a false attempt to throw him off. His laughter became louder until it seemed to fill every crack and crevice in the room. Suddenly, his hands were upon her. Strong hands with long fingers, gripping her ribcage and causing her to go breathless with giggles. His hands ventured lower, thumbs pressing to the crease where her legs met with the triangle nestled between her thighs. Savannah squealed and bucked beneath him, forcing them both to fall off the bed, landing unceremoniously on the floor in a tangle of blankets and limbs.

"Savvy," he gasps between snorts. "You really need to get that looked at. It's unnatural to be so damned ticklish." Savannah cannot respond to his teasing, and she tries to gulp air in to her lungs. After a while their laughter dies down, and they lie together in complete silence. Savannah marvels at the peace she feels, lying with this man and just being perfectly still. He has always been the closest thing to family for Savannah, as she never knew her parents. Her foster mom was absolutely horrific, the type who adopted seven children so that the state would send her money for her tequila Fridays. Mrs. Ashford was always raving on about demons and night walkers, telling stories with such vivid details that Savannah spent many nights awake with terror. Last night was no different, her mind replaying the things it conjured up during Ashford's drunken stupor. Flashes of dark creatures with twisted limbs creep into her mind, and Savannah shakes her head in an attempt to clear it. It's unfair that even now, when she is safe and content in his arms, she still lives in fear of the monsters under the bed.

"Thank you for staying with me last night. I know you must be getting tired of me by now." Savannah whispers in to his shoulder, hiding her face in shame. She feels his lips on her head, laying a kiss in her tangle of flaxen hair.

"I will never tire of you, don't be so derisible. You know I love you sprog." He squeezes her in his arms to hold her closer, as if chasing away her thoughts. Savannah hates it when he calls her sprog, a nickname she acquired for being the youngest of the seven children. Ten years later and he still calls her the kid. It annoys her, but at the same time makes her feel happy, due to the familiarity of it. Perhaps she will miss it once he's gone.

"Chase, what do you think happiness feels like?"

For a long time he does not answer. Then he rolls them over on the floor and tucks her into the fold of his body, sheltering her from the crisp morning air. He squeezes again, keeping silent all the while. Finally, as Savannah begins to drift off to sleep once more, he whispers in her ear. "I think it feels like this."

"Then why are you so eager to leave me?" She says the words before she can stop them, and immediately wishes that she had the power to take them back. It is unfair of her to wish this hell on him, selfish of her to ask him to stay. But that is what she has just done.

"I'm not leaving you, Savvy. I'll be waiting, and as soon as you're eighteen, I'll come back for you. I promise." He nuzzles the curvature of her neck, breathing her her familiar scent and marvelling at the smoothness of her skin. "I won't ever leave you," he swears. "Don't you trust me?" He can feel her tense in his arms, but he will never understand her aversion to trusting people. And not just people, but him.

The nightmares have taken over her life now, real blending with the make believe in her waking hours, and trust isn't an emotion she readily feels. Especially not for Chase, not after what her mind's eye has seen. But how could she tell him that? After all, he has only ever showed kindness to her. How could she explain her fear towards him, when it doesn't even make sense to herself?

"I trust you," she lies, the words singing her tongue on the way out. "I won't leave you either." Savannah says this as an afterthought, not really understanding why it felt so important to say.

Chase laughs. "Course you won't." But there is something in his voice, something that wasn't there before. However, before Savannah can ask him about it, there is a loud bang right outside the door, followed shortly by Mrs. Ashford's wailing. Suddenly, the door swings open with such force it nearly comes off its hinges.

"Jasný zachránce!" She bursts in to the room, blood caking her face and hair, fingernails covered in grime. "Run!" She grabs Savannah by her tangled hair and lifts her from the floor, ignoring her thrashing in pain. "Musí běžet, zůstaňte v bezpečí!" Savannah can see Chase rising from the floor, anger and panic evident in his eyes. She herself does not feel angry, or even afraid. She is only confused. Mrs. Ashford rambling in an unknown language is nothing new to the foster children, even physical violence is a common occurrence, especially for Savannah, who often encouraged the old drunks wrath. But where has all this blood come from?

Mrs. Ashford has taken Savannah to the window now, and throws her against it. "Stupid girl," she spits. "Run!" Savannah blindly turns to the window and pushes it open, she lifts herself on to the sill and begin to wiggle through. She is almost completely out when a loud crash causes her to look back. Mrs. Ashford lies on the ground, her mouth opened impossibly wide in a soundless scream, blood flowing past her lips. She is dead. Savannah has never seen someone die before. She looks up to see Chase struggling with a man dressed all in black. No, not a man, a creature. With skin so dark it looks like the ocean water at night, and silver tattoos like the moonlight reflecting off the surface. "Přestaň!" He shouts. His teeth resemble those of a sharks, long and pointed, stained yellow and red. As if her commanded them, a half dozen more creatures run past him in to the room, headed straight for Savannah. Chase screams and tackled the shouting man to the floor, bringing his knee down on the creatures snarling face with impressive force. Someone hits him in the head from behind, and Chase falls to the floor. The creature springs upon him, sinking his teeth in to Chase's shoulder with a sickening sound.

Savannah tears her eyes away from the horrifying scene in time to see three of the beasts simultaneously reaching out towards her. She shrieks, loud and high in pitch, and throws her body desperately out the window. One of the things manages to grab a fistful of hair, and for a terrifyingly painful moment Savannah is suspended in the air. Arrows of pain shoot through her skull, a scream lodged in her throat. The creatures are shouting to one another, voices like gravel that crawl on the surface of her flesh. She reaches up and grips the hand holding her, digging her finger nails in to the rubbery skin there as hard as she possibly can. She hits the ground hard, rolling her ankle as she does so, but she cannot stop. She knows what happens next, she has seen it before. Only this time, these are not creatures of her imagination. These are not the things she sees in her dreams at night, after one of Ashford's bedtime stories.

Savannah's stomach rolls at the thought of Mrs. Ashford, lying dead in a pool of her own blood. Blood that was much thicker than she would have imagined. Chase's screams follow her out of the yard, seem to echo off every house in the abandoned neighbourhood. Where is everyone? Why is no one coming to save them?

Vomit threatens its way up her throat and Savannah struggles to keep it at bay. She knows she must run, but the undeniable need to turn back for him is causing her feet to stick to the ground. She also knows, however, that every second of indecision may cost her her life. In the dream, they come from the mouth of the alley to her left. Closing her eyes against the oncoming tears, Savannah turns away and runs with all her strength, runs for her life. ~~

"Sire, we have found it." The Shadow Creature walks towards him with an unsuppressed gleam in its white eyes. The movements are awkward, as the creature is bent disproportionately at the waist and has limbs that jut out at impossible angles. He never did like the Shadow People, but their powers were undeniable indeed, and their numbers great. They would prove to be of much use when the time for war finally arrived. And if what this creatures says is true, that time will soon be here.

"Where is it?" He demands, patience worn out. He is so close to his goal, he can taste victory on the tip of his tongue.

"Kept in the basement, sire. Chains you see. It tried to flee." The creature snickers, laughing at its own cleverness.

He leaves for the basement, barely holding on to his sanity, but stops to address the creature once more. "What, exactly, is it Pecks? I have always wondered, but now..." He does not say that he is afraid, that would be untrue. And unwise, to show weakness in the face of a shadow creature. But in all honesty, he is hesitant to go down to the basement without knowing. He has been searching for such a long time for The Torch, now that it has been found, he is indeterminate.

The creature laughs some more, blood gurgling in its throat. "A surprise, master." He chuckles. "A most wonderful surprise." ~~

Savannah awakes to an amount of pain she has surely never felt before, and to the feeling of being prodded. She tries opening her eyes, but one of them seems to be swollen shut. She cannot remember how she got here. The last thing she does remember was running for her life, making her way in to the city, when suddenly all of the shadows on the street became alive. They jumped at her, shapeless monsters, faceless beings, scratching and clawing. And burning. Every surface of her body felt alight in flame. She longs to claw the flesh from her bones, simply to get the fire off of her. But her hands, she realizes with a start, are chained above her head. She is hanging from a ceiling. What an odd thing, she thinks to herself, I have always wondered what this would feel like. Then the panic sinks in, and whatever thoughts she had, rational or no, are wiped clear from her mind. She can see them, the Shadow People from Mrs. Ashford's stories, the creatures that kept her awake at night for years. In the flesh, surrounding her.

Screams of terror rip from her body as she wriggles uselessly in her confinement. One of the creatures grabs her chin and forces her to look at it. Him, she thinks it is a him. At first, distinguishing a gender for these creatures seemed like a good idea to her, maybe it would humanize them more and make them seem less terrifying in her own mind. Now, though, seeing the look it, he, is giving her, she realises that nothing she does will make her less scared.

The creature bends forward, moving its head without moving the rest of its body, and licks the side of her face. He runs his purple tongue over her jaw line and up to her closed lips, laughing from his throat all the while. Another beast has hands on her thighs, inching slowly up underneath her nightgown. Nausea bubbles in her stomach, her head begins to spin. All she can feel is terror, and pain.

A shout from the doorway causes the creatures to scatter. Savannah looks up to see a man standing in the borders of the door, taking up almost all the space. His shape is large, impossibly so. He looks to be seven feet tall, and built with so many muscles they even it out. He takes a tentative step towards her, then another, and finally steps in to the light.

A gasp escapes her before she can stop it, and she moves her eyes away from him. He is the most handsome man she has ever seen, straight jaw and strong features, with eyes that left an impression even after a mere second. Somehow, his black hair pulled back in to a long pony tail only seems to make him look that much more masculine. And intimidating.

"Krásný." He whispers, and even though he is half way across the room, Savannah feels the sensual word seeping in to her skin, caressing her. Her eyes lift back to him of their own accord. He is much closer now, close enough to touch. Though he has the same looking tattoos as the shadow people, he seems human. Closer to a God, truly, but more human than them.

"Do you understand me?" He says with a thick accent. He is the first of her captors to speak English to her, although she is not surprised. He holds himself differently than the shadows, and they cower beneath his gaze. Savannah manages to nod in answer, but cannot find her voice to speak.

"I am Thanatos, and you belong to me now. Try to escape, and I will saw off both your legs and feed them to the Night Walkers." He comes closer to her and places one hand gently under her chin, lifting her face to his. His tenderness does not match with his threats, and the tone of his voice is deadly. "Do you understand me?" He asks again. Savannah cannot tell if he is angry or not, but when he repeats the question she nods in assurance, certain it is best not to test him. He nods to her, seeming to have made a decision. He reaches up to her chains and releases her aching wrists. Savannah falls to the floor in a heap of limbs and fabric. She looks up to see him watching her, a curious look on his face. He appears to be studying her.

Trying her best to put on a brave face, Savannah slowly rises to her knees, then pushes herself up to her feet. Her head spins strangely, her breath comes in shallow gasps. Knees wobbling, she straightens herself and locks gazes with the striking man. Thanatos, he said? The personification of death, if she remembered correctly. And she does not doubt it. Looking at him, his strength and seriousness was not lost on her. This was a man you did not want to anger.

Is that why he was with the shadow people? Because he controls them? And why not? If he is death incarnate, it would make sense for demons to be his followers. What had he called them? Night Walkers. Only they did not walk in the night, they moved with it, making it come alive.

"Come." Thanatos orders, curling a large finger towards her. Savannah takes one tentative step forward, but her legs cannot carry her, and she crumples to the ground. For the first time she realises how tired she is. She struggles to keep her eyes open, but she does not attempt to stand again, it would be pointless.

The large man sighs above her, and then leans down to gather her in his arms. He lifts her effortlessly, cradling her small body close to his much larger one. Like being held by granite, she thinks. His toned muscle presses against her. She inhales his purely masculine scent. Please be here to save me, she prays. Though she knows it is in vain. Thanatos. She belongs to him now? Not if she has anything to say about it.

~~

She was not what he had expected. He wasn't sure what they were looking for, but for all this time, for it to be a girl...And not just any girl. No, the most beautiful he had ever seen. Even with dirt covering every inch of her body, with blood in her hair, hiding her face. With pain in her eyes and bruises all over her tattered frame, her beauty could not be denied. The curves of her body were prominent, and he wanted nothing more than to touch them.

"Beautiful." Thanatos said, before he could stop himself. She looked at him then, fear plain in her eyes. But another emotion was there, one he was not expecting to see. Determination. So much about her was surprising. What had Pecks said? She was human. The only human language he knew was English. "Do you understand me?" He asked, inwardly cringing at the difficulty of speaking this tongue after such a long time of talking only to the shadow born.

The girl nodded before her head slumped back down, but she never tore her eyes from him. They were so blue he almost lost his breath in their intensity. Never had he seen pools that deep, color that vibrant. His own eyes were black, lifeless, the same black as his hair. The same black as the shadow people's skin. Black like their hearts, like his heart should be.

But seeing this girl, beat to a point where she would be unrecognizable to her own family, forcing her body to stand in front of him...He cannot help but feel something towards her. Not sympathy, no, never that. But recognition of some kind. Appreciation even. He sees her strength, even as he sees her many weaknesses.

She shifts under his gaze, resting her weight on one leg. The movement causes the shredded night dress she wears to move, the fabric catching between her legs to show a creamy white thigh. Skin of porcelain. Skin he wants so badly to taste...

"Come," he beckons. The girl hardly hesitates, and instead takes one step towards him before falling to the ground. It is only then he realises how serious her injuries truly are. He sees her heaving on the stone floor and throws an angry glare at the walkers around him. They creep backwards, further in to the shadows. Thanatos reaches down and lifts the girl up in to his arms. She weighs close to nothing, her body feels fragile. For a moment he feels the desire to crush her to him, to see how hard he can squeeze her before she breaks. He imagines her screams filling the basement, echoing off the stone walls. There is a growing tightness in his groin as he realises the screams he wants to hear are of a different nature entirely.

The girl shifts in his arms and breathes in, causing her breasts to rub against his skin tauntingly. He takes on hand from under her and brings it to her chest, sufficiently holding her light weight with one arm. His free hand cups one plump breast, feeling the weight of it. The generous globe is soft and weilding in his palm, and he tweaks the nipple with strong, able fingers. She shifts again. She has passed out. But when she awakes, Thanatos grins, his fun will begin. A most wonderful surprise indeed.

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AnonymousAnonymousabout 6 years ago
More please!

I couldn’t stop reading this!

I know it’s unlikely, after so many years...but please continue this story!

lisaisaleftylisaisaleftyabout 11 years ago
did they not approve your chapter installment?

What is going on with this story?

AoideDeityAoideDeityover 11 years agoAuthor
Hey Guys!

Sorry it has taken me so long, I just got so busy with life. I'm sure it happens to all of us. But just to let you know, I have submitted the next chapter of this story! I hope you all really like it! Thanks so much for your comments <3

lisaisaleftylisaisaleftyover 11 years ago
Is there more?

Will you be continuing this story?

peterpanpeterpanover 11 years ago
Promising start.

It looks like there is a lot more story to reveal, which I look forward to.

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