Once It Gets Dark Ch. 05

CHAPTER 5

The street outside was dark and empty, no lights coming from the windows. Before the war Berlin had been a city that never slept, famous for it's night- and street life, especially in the summer.

But in the last five months, with young women not leaving the house after dark anymore the whole city had changed: While there were still lots of bars and restaurants, that closed shortly after dusk, many of the big and famous clubs from pre Veril times were facing serious problems. The more creative ones had simply switched to opening exclusively during the day, others advertised, that they would only let humans through the door, but there had been some incidents and since then most women didn't dare to set a foot inside the big nightclubs anymore.

I had heard from fellow students that they had visited underground parties and raves in secret spots all over the city -- some literally underground in the tunnels beneath Berlin, but I had always been to scared to go -- how ironic considering the predicament in which I found myself now.

I breathed in the summer night, the air was fresh but not cold and my heart ached as I realized how much I had missed leaving the house after dark. When I still lived in Heidelberg I had sometimes gone out by myself in the late hours just to take a walk. I loved how the streets, the squares and the river seemed like a completely different world in the darkness, magical and a little dangerous. The promise of an an adventure that was just waiting for me around the corner hidden in the shadows.

And right here, looking at the dark windows of the restaurants and bars, I felt a faint memory of the same sense of marvel again but of course the adventure that had waited for me in the darkness, was very different than what I had hoped for.

I looked up at the night blue sky. It was the first time I saw the stars in months, and for a second my heart jumped with joy.

I could feel the General at my back, more than I could hear him, he moved so silently.

I imagined what a strange pair we had to make to an outside onlooker: General Tsul Vo'ren himself, menacing with his Veril power, uniform and weapons, a nightmare that had taken a physical form to punish a whole nation for their sins; and then there was I, barefoot, wearing nothing but my grey oversized t-shirt, smiling at the sky like I had finally lost my mind.

The thought made me laugh a little.

"Is something funny?" the General asked in a low voice, giving me a suspicious look as I turned around to him.

He had not spoken a word until now, not even touching me on our way down to the street, escorting me like a shadow. But I had no doubt that he would restrain me, the second I as little as tensed a muscle trying to run. I had seen how fast he was -- I shivered at the memory -- so I didn't even bother to think about fleeing.

"No," I responded, straightening up. "I was just thinking about how beautiful the stars are -- I love the night!"

His eyes narrowed while he looked down at me, his regal face otherwise unmoved, "You are lucky then, keltz'in, as I live at night so who knows if you will see the cursed sun again."

My stomach tightened, I was facing him directly now, looking at him in all his glory. Earlier I had thought that he looked like War incarnate. Now, knowing who he really was, I realized how right I had been. My eyes lingered on his weapon belt, the blade on his side. His leather armor strapped around the uniform on his shoulders and arms making him look even broader than he already was.

"Wow, I'm so lucky. Thank you very much, General Tsul," I retorted in an attempt at sarcasm.

"I said, that you can call me Ren," he stepped closer. The hairs on my skin stood up at the nearness of his body.

"I'd rather not risk disrespecting the mighty General by calling him a nickname," I glared at him.

His eyes narrowed even more and he grabbed me by my forearm, pulling me tightly towards him.

"Is that so, keltz'in? Then you shall address me by my real title: It is Shenik Tsul -- not General. You start speaking my language now, if you do not wish to disrespect me," he fixed me with his gaze, as his grip tightened painfully.

I shoved against him trying to get away, "Stop, you're hurting me!"

"Get used to it," he hissed, staring at me angrily, but after a moment his eyes softened a little, he released his grip, and, to my surprise, leaned down and kissed me. His strong fingers took hold of my hair, and gently pulled my head back, before I could turn to the side.

I kept trying to push him away, but his lips felt so damn good on mine. Slowly, and against my will, my body was giving in, relaxing against him, responding to his presence like it always did.

I could feel the General's smile when I started to return his kiss. I held on to the uniform on his arms, relishing the feeling of his strong muscles under the fabric. I pulled him down deeper into our embrace and the taste of his breath on my lips reignited the heat in my core.

He ran one hand down my spine and leisurely lifted the hem of my shirt until his palm lay on my bare skin, gently digging his fingers into my butt. I moaned softly, half forgetting that I was almost naked in the middle of a very public, albeit empty, street. Some primal part of me ached for him, needed to connect to him, as if I were made out of metal and he was a magnet.

I put my hand on his and pressed it firmly against me. I wanted to feel the strength of him on my skin.

He understood instantly, almost making me yelp under his grip. He turned us around and forced me against the wall of my building. The cold stone chafing against my back was a stark contrast to his warm body pressing against mine. All of a sudden the sound of a lone car passing by snapped me out of my frenzy and I froze for a second, remembering where we were, who we were -- who he was. I pushed against him again and this time he allowed me to move him away.

He was breathing hard, when he broke our kiss, "You see, keltz'in, it can be so easy between us. Why must you fight me all the time?"

I swayed a little, my head spinning and pulled on my shirt in a feeble attempt to get more coverage from it.

"Stop calling me keltz'in -- I know that it means 'my toy'," I hissed at him, refusing to think about how it was possible, that even now, knowing who he was and what he had done, he still had such a devastating effect on me.

The hint of a smile played around the corners of his mouth, and my heart jumped as I tried to ignore the wetness that remained between my legs after our kiss. How was it legal for a monster like him to look so lovely?

He slowly ran his thumb over my lips and I whimpered at his touch. His eyes were solid black and I felt a smug satisfaction at this proof that he was struggling to stay off of me as well.

"You are such a smart little toy, keltz'in," he teased me. "And I am getting hard just thinking about all the ways I am going to play with you -- but not here."

With that he took a handheld radio from his belt and spoke an order in Veril into it. A voice answered him immediately, the hissing language hardly distinguishable from the static.

I was contemplating what a strange people the Veril were. Had they known human technology all along? Was it even human technology or inventions of their own? But if that was the case, how come our scouts had not noticed anything when they were exploring their forests? The General appeared so casual handling the devices, that it hardly seemed like it was something new to him.

"Why are you using a scimitar when you are carrying two different firearms?" I asked him.

The General looked down at me, his eyebrows drawn up as if my question had surprised him.

"I mean, aren't the guns the superior and more efficient weapons? You haven't touched them tonight, but you drew your scimitar twice. And in Hamburg...," I interrupted myself shuddering as I thought about it.

"I am fast," he answered, helping me out, as I had lost my words. "In my hand there is not as much of a difference, as there would be if you compared a firearm to a blade yielded by a human."

I remembered the strange flitting movement again, that he had made when Tim had come home, and I shuddered.

"When you do things with your hand instead of letting a machine do them for you," he continued after thinking for a moment.

"There is a benefit to it. It makes the action contain more...," he paused, opening and closing his hand as if he could pluck the word, he was looking for, out of the void, like he had done with the blue light he had used to mark my face.

"... there is more len'ich to it," he gave up simply using the Veril word instead.

"Lanich?" I repeated, stumbling on the pronounciation.

He shrugged, giving me a hint of a smile, "I think in the English language, the word you would use is 'magic', it is not a good translation, but let us say that there is more magic in the action and its result, if you do things with your hand, instead of with a machine."

I nodded in fascination. Strangely, I thought I understood what he meant. Like the difference between a hand knit sweater, and a store bought one. The len'ich -- magic-- that came through the process of creating something with your own hands.

The General's face hardened as he went on, "So, I prefer to use my blade. It is more effective."

I swallowed. Did he mean that the same magic of creating something with your hands also worked for it's opposite, for destroying -- for killing? I supposed, that if there was somebody who knew about the magic of destruction, it would be the Butcher of Hamburg. How else would he have been able to wipe out an entire city in just one night. It had been the big question everybody had asked after the massacre: How had this even been possible?

I wanted to ask him more, but I was interrupted by three Veril military vehicles, that had silently pulled up besides us. I jumped as I saw them so close. The fear of those cars, that could appear seemingly out of nowhere, was an involuntary reflex I had acquired in the past five months of occupation.

The Veril cars were painted in a dark camouflage consisting of different shades of black and grey swirling in an almost fog like pattern, like solidified shadows. It turned them almost invisible at night.

The Veril, as nocturnal beings, had excellent vision in the dark, which allowed them to use their cars, tanks and other machinery without light during the night. An advantage they had benefited from greatly, while fighting the Bundeswehr during the Battle of Hamburg.

After the Treaty had been signed, there had been several accidents with human cars and pedestrians, who had not been able to see the patrolling vehicles on time. That was why the Veril had begun to use blue back- and headlights with the only purpose of making themselves more visible to us, while they were driving on human roads.

The blue lights on the shadow like cars had an incredibly eerie and alien effect, that made my skin crawl every time I had seen them from afar. I thought that it was just another demonstration of the Veril actually being huge assholes, that they would rather design those new strange lights, instead of using the regular ones we had in our cars, just to remind us how superior their vision was.

The doors of the car in the middle of the convoy opened, but as I looked inside it appeared to be completely empty.

I let out a little scream, as all of a sudden, somebody spoke right next to us.

"Sheniktz'in."

A soldier, who had definitely not been there before, stood at the General's side. Darkness, slowly dissipating like smoke, was clinging to his uniform. He was tall and green skinned, like the General, but his face was more angular, his features rougher. His hair was shaved above his pointy ears on both sides of his head, with the rest falling down to his waist in a long black braid. A rifle was slung over his shoulder.

The General gave a curt nod, acknowledging the soldier's salute and seemed to ask him something in Veril. The two exchanged a couple of brisk sentences in the hissing language, but then their tone shifted to what sounded to be more of a casual conversation. The soldier chuckled, and said something in a low voice, his eyes looking me up and down. The General laughed his beautiful sharp toothed laugh, and slapped the soldier on the back in response, the way people do, who know each other very well. I didn't need to understand Veril to guess what they were talking about.

Still smiling the General turned to me, "Keltz'in, this is Colonel Vik Ichel, the leader of my Shadow Guard."

The soldier chuckled again as he heard the nickname, his superior used for me. I wanted to tell them both to go fuck themselves, but of course I didn't dare.

If Vik Ichel was the leader of the General's personal guard they had probably fought side by side, maybe even saved each other's lives a couple of times. They were most likely friends. I reminded myself that I needed to pay attention to this type of things, if I wanted to survive -- if I somehow hoped to escape.

The General motioned towards the car in the middle of the convoy, and I hesitantly got into the back seat next to the window right behind the guard's driver's seat, hoping that the General would be sitting in front.

The interior of the car was functional, as to be expected of a military vehicle. But the seats were comfortable and the tinted windows, as well as the escorting cars in front and behind us, made me almost feel like someone important. Of course the someone important wasn't me, but General Tsul Vo'ren, who had to be one of the most powerful people in Germany at the moment only surpassed by the Counsel of Twelve.

I couldn't help but to give the red band with golden markings around his uniform, the only insignia of his rank, a nasty look, as he sat down to my right, laying his arm possessively on top of the backrest behind me. Why couldn't he just sit in front? He gave a short order and we started moving.

The car's engines were almost silent except for a low humming and really didn't sound like any human technology I knew.

We were gliding down the empty street away from the apartment that had been my home in Berlin. I craned my neck, looking back through the car's window as the yellow front of the old building, now grey in the darkness, slowly disappeared from my sight. I wanted to hold on to something, to stop being dragged away, my heart started racing.

"Put the seatbelt on," the General's unexpected request snapped me out of my thoughts.

Puzzled, I looked to my right side where he was sitting, his seatbelt unbuckled. I raised my eyebrows.

He bared his teeth managing to look annoyed and menacing at the same time, displaying his sharp canines. He reached over me, pulling the seatbelt out in one brusk movement, and jammed it hard into the buckle.

"Is it really necessary, that I have to physically force you to obey me, every time, even when it is the most simple of demands? You come from a nation of car builders, surely I can expect you to be familiar with the benefits of a safety belt -- or do I need to explain to you what effects an accident can have on your fragile little human body?"

I pressed my lips together, trying not to let him see how flustered he had left me by leaning over. In order to fasten my seat belt, the General had scooted closer, and he did not seem to be planning on returning to his original spot. His strong leg was pushing against my upper thigh now and his left arm still rested behind my back.

"Are we going to Hamburg?" I asked quietly.

"No," he answered. His tone, at first still slightly annoyed, got more even as he explained, "We will be staying here for a little while -- I have some things to do in the Capital, so we will take up camp at the Main Base."

"Is that the one in Friedrichshain?" I wondered.

The Veril military had taken over the big park in one of Berlin's more central neighborhoods, where they had set up their headquarters, housing a smaller section of the General's army, the Kirtim Shenk. A permanent threat, designed to keep our government in check. For the inhabitants of the capital this had been a major nuisance, since the streets around, the park -- important avenues -- had been closed off for traffic, which resulted in terrible congestions during each rush hour.

"Yes, Volkspark Friedrichshain," he confirmed, drawing out the word.

The timbre of his voice sent shivers through my body right into my core. It was strange to hear him speak my native language -- his pronunciation was actually quite good! And as far as I could tell, his English was also excellent, it seemed like the Butcher of Hamburg had a talent for languages.

It was an interest we apparently shared -- I had left my business major in Heidelberg to follow my heart and study Linguistics. Besides of my native language, German, I also spoke English and Spanish fluently, and had taken lessons in a couple of other languages, such as French -- which had been mandatory in my high school -- Latin and some Russian.

My parents had always said that languages were useful but only combined with 'real studies', like business, economy or natural sciences. But I had always loved languages. Studying them was like opening your mind up to a new world, a different way of seeing and experiencing things. I had dreamed of traveling, getting to know new countries and people.

Of course I knew that my father was secretly hoping that one day I would take over managing the family business, a traditional bakery that was running since four generations now, and consisted of three successful traditional shops, two of them in Heidelberg, and the main one in my father's small little home town twenty minutes away from the bigger city. So, unsurprisingly, my parents had been less than excited, when I followed my heart, changed my major, and moved to Berlin -- considering my current situation, I should have probably listened to them.

I looked over to the General next to me, the closeness of him was causing me to fidget. I tried my best to ignore him, but his scent was all around me, making me a little dizzy and I could feel my body reacting instinctively to him. I tried to shift away to the other side of the seat and pressed my thighs together, hoping that it would keep his heightened Veril senses from smelling the wetness starting to pool in my core again.

My treacherous mind sabotaged me, going back to the memories of his hands on my skin, his strong, naked form on me -- in me. How it had felt like, when he took me, filled me, forced himself inside my body.

The General inhaled deeply, and paused for a moment, his eyes narrowed, and he slowly turned towards me.

"And what are you thinking about, my sweet?" his voice was dangerously low.

The truth was that I was currently thinking about how I could still sense his hot seed deep inside my womb -- or was it the increasing wetness of my own arousal? And how a part of me desperately wanted to feel him again. Wanted the powerful warrior to make my body submit to his supernatural strength, to make me scream.

"Nothing," I answered quickly, my voice a little higher than usual. "I'm looking forward to seeing the Volkspark again. It has been closed for so long now."

I needed to get a grip on myself. Sitting in the car, next to General Tsul and his guard, like some kind of personal war prize, wearing nothing but a shirt, my naked butt sticking to the fabric of the seat, was already humiliating enough. The last thing I wanted was for the two monsters to notice how much the General's presence affected me. But why did he have to smell so good, why did he have to look so hot in his armor?