The Fae Hunter Ch. 04

"What are you doing now?" Niles asked.

"Fuck," I panted. "You." I brought my left hand to my right and pressed harder. It felt like the orb was sinking through my skin. I screamed in pain. Niles hopped back in startlement, falling onto his butt when his bad leg crumpled under him. I pushed harder. Screamed harder. The glass from the orb shattered and splintered. I was vaguely aware of the shards of glass penetrating my flesh. The purple, pulsating sphere dropped effortlessly through my skin and into my chest. I flickered out of existence.

I was standing in another room. Dark, thick burgundy curtains lined the walls. They were draped closed, allowing no light in or out. Giving no clue to where I was. Glowing, flickering lights whirled around the long room. Like the light coming from fireflies. I was in a throne room. At one end of the long room were ten stairs that led to an ornate throne that looked like it was made from gold. Jewels were placed in intricate patterns that I knew I should recognize but didn't. Sitting on the throne was a man. Or a thing that looked like a man. It was hard to tell his height, as he was sitting down, but he was beautiful. More beautiful than any person I had ever seen. He had long, straight black hair that ended just past his shoulders. The shape of his eyes were narrow and slanted up at the outer edges in a way that was intriguing and gorgeous and very not human. His nose, like the rest of him, was long and narrow. Thin lips were curved in a bemused smile that didn't reach the black on black eyes. His eyes...I couldn't stop looking back at his eyes...were so dark as to seem like holes into space. His nude body was slim and muscular. Every muscle defined to perfection. He sat with legs parted to make room for a huge cock that hung low. It was a cock to worship. Except for the hair on his head, he was completely hairless. He raised one arm and beckoned me toward him with one long, elegant finger.

"Come here, young lord," he whispered in my mind. His lips kept the bemused, half smile. He was not talking to me with his vocal cords. I walked forward, eager to do his bidding. To worship him. His eyes, those black holes, bore into me relentlessly. "Stop," he commanded me mentally when I stood before him. So close I could almost touch him. "You have my heart with your own?" he asked.

"I don't know," I told him. His eyes held the wisdom and beauty of the stars, of the sun, and of the moon.

"The Heart," he said. He was exasperated. Upset. I was desperate to make amends. If I only knew how. "Did you bring The Heart into your chest?"

"Yes," I said, happy to be able to answer him. "Yes."

"Excellent." He stood up. We were similar in height, but he was deathly skinny. Inches from him, I started to notice that what I thought was perfection had flaws. The more I looked the sicker he looked. Ribs protruding, shoulder bones pushing outward with only skin to hold them in place. His stomach was so sunken in as to make one wonder if there were any organs in his body at all. His skin was sallow and peeling. His cock, in contrast, looked massive against the backdrop of the emaciated body. We were standing close enough for the heads of our soft cocks to just touch. A smell or aura of death emanated from him. His smile, crooked and false, was predatory and vicious and too wide for comfort. His canine teeth were elongated and ended in very sharp looking points.

"What are you?" I asked, taking a step back. Part of me thought he was perfect and my master. Another part was fighting the compulsion to obey.

"Young lord," his voice whispered in my mind. "That is not a very easy question to answer. I am the first. I have had many names over the millenia. One is as good as another. Once the race race of fae called me Drak. But there have been many, many other names as well." He reached out a hand to touch my face. Long, yellow, discolored fingernails trailed along the side of my face. Not quite scratching, not quite tickling. "But all have known me as their master. As I am yours." His hand ended on my shoulder. He exerted pressure downward. His strength was massive and all consuming. His will, just as strong as his physical strength. "Kneel, child." I fell to my knees. "Worship me," his voice slithered through my mind, clouding my thoughts. His cock started to harden and rise. "Drink of my essence." His cock head was now touching my lips. "And become my slave for eternity." I opened my mouth to let his cock in, desperate to drink his cum.

"No!" I shouted, scrambling away from him. "Get out of my head," I demanded.

"Interesting," he said, tilting his head to one side. "I feel my Heart inside of you. You should be mine to command." He raised one gaunt, deathly thin arm out toward me. He pointed a long finger at me and curled it toward himself. "Come here."

"I...will...not...be...your...slave." I panted with the exertion of defiance. I stood up and took another step back.

"Of course, you will," he said. "You are of me. It is what you were born to be."

"No," I said, shaking my head and taking yet another step back.

"You are strong," he said. Instead of the fury I expected, he seemed pleased with my disobedience. "I will need that strength to get back to humanland."

"What do you want with me?" I demanded.

"Young lord," he said, laughing softly. The laughter was the first physical sound he had yet made. It grated at my ears. It sent shivers of fear down my spine. It was primal and powerful. I didn't doubt for a moment that he could actually kill me with just a few words spoken out loud. He was, I realized in that instant, a god. A vengeful, killing god who was ready to eat his fill of life. He gracefully sat back down on his throne. "Use that strength well," he told me. "Grow in power. When you are ready, you will come back and serve me or feed me." He waved his hand nonchalantly. "I care not which." With another small wave of his hand he was gone. Or I should say, I was.

My whole body was wracked in pain. Deep, bone crushing pain. Slowly I felt a different pain. A heat on my neck. Reluctantly I opened my eyes. Niles stared down at me. Watching me with interest. I curled my lip in distaste. I started to move, to grab him and smash him until he died. There was a burning prick at the base of my neck.

"Uh huh," he said, shaking his head. "That's a silver blade. Don't move just yet." I settled back down.

"Kill me," I told him. "Because I won't hesitate tearing your head off."

"Mmmm." He rotated his head from side to side. Not agreeing or disagreeing with me. "Maybe," he said. "But I think we have a few things to say to each other before the whole killing part starts."

"Like what?" I said.

"Like the fact that we were both used."

"What are you talking about?"

"Well," he said thoughtfully. He moved away from me, careful of his knee. He waved his silver blade back and forth to highlight my body. "Clearly you were meant to shove The Heart into your chest." I sat up on my elbows to look down my body. I was fully nude, all of my clothes completely burned off. Along my sternum was a faded, thin line, like a scar that was years old. The burst of purple lines that had been growing along my body was gone. Completely vanished. Shards of glass, that had been the glass bauble holding the Heart, were embedded into my chest. Chunks of glass that were biting deeply into my flesh. Now that I knew they were there, they started to hurt. Badly.

"Fuck," I said. There were trickles of blood seeping from the wounds, but if I pulled the glass out, the blood would start gushing. I touched one of the larger pieces gingerly.

"Oh, please," Niles said. "You're fae. Just pull the glass out." I still didn't feel like a fae. Not that I knew what that was supposed to feel like. But fae were supposed to heal almost instantly from any wounds not inflicted by silver. I looked up at Niles, who was watching me. He tilted his head to one side. Interested and confused by me. I gritted my teeth and pulled the shard. Blood poured out.

"Fuck," I said, pressing my hand into the wound. I felt the wound close under my palm. I lifted my hand off my chest and wiped the blood away. The skin was flawless. "Fuck," I whispered. "Holy fuck."

"You see," Niles spoke up. "That's my point. How do you not know you are fae? Why were you hunting me? For that matter," he paused to muse internally. "how was I able to acquire one of the Wonders of the World so easily?"

"I have a question for you," I said as I started pulling more shards of glass out of me. "Do you normally keep slaves for a month just to torture someone for a few seconds?"

"Yes," he said, drawing the word out slowly. "Why did I do that?" He hopped a few steps back. "I think we have both been played."

***

Aberdeen stood in front of his balcony to bask in the morning light as he looked down on the flower garden below his window. The fresh scent of roses wafted up. It was another glorious, boring day. Behind him the bedroom door opened three minutes late. He smiled. He couldn't remember the last time Rachel had been late.

"Did you know that Aberdeen means 'messenger of the angels' in the tongue of the fae?" he asked, still without turning. A slight breeze came through the open balcony doors, making his nude body shiver slightly. It woke him up better than the coffee that he smelled behind him.

"No, my lord," a young woman's voice said. Aberdeen turned to survey the owner of this voice he didn't recognize. Seeing him turn, she bowed her head, looking down. The tray in her hands wobbled slightly, making the coffee spill.

"You are not Rachel," Aberdeen said. He walked toward her. She was a small thing. Five feet in height at most. Her body slim and petite everywhere. Almost no hips to speak of. He took the tray from her and placed it on the desk near the door. He circled her. Her clothes were to baggy and it was hard to appreciate or ridicule her body. He ended up in front of her again. "Take off your clothes."

"My lord?" she whimpered. She started to shake in fear. It was delicious. Aberdeen sipped at her terror like his father sipped on his favorite red wines. Slowly and with true delight. He placed the image of her running towards the balcony and flinging herself off into her mind. Twisting her body so that she landed, head first, four stories below them. In a rose bush. She started crying, falling to her knees. "Please my lord," she begged.

"What is your name?" Aberdeen asked, delighted at her response.

"Melany," she sniffled.

"Well, Melany," he said, reaching down and pushing her chin up so that she had to look at him or close her eyes. "I get angry if I have to command someone twice. Do you want me angry?"

"No, my lord," she said. Her eyes were a warm brown. Very pretty. Especially filled with tears. Aberdeen lifted her up to her feet by her elbows.

"Well?" he asked softly. She scrambled out of her clothes, leaving them in a heap at her feet. She was small everywhere. A delicate little flower. From her small feet to her lithe legs to her pussy with wisps of light brown hair. He walked around her again to look at her ass. Perfectly formed and tiny. He gripped one cheek, making her gasp. Tight, young skin. He came back around to her front. Her small breasts lay high on her chest, not even a handful. Her nipples were incongruously large, sticking out in hard nobs. She was aroused, he noticed with humor. Aroused and filled with fear. Delicious. His dick responded to both, lengthening and hardening. "Very nice," he said, reaching out and touching one nipple. "Why are you here and not Rachel?"

"I don't know, my lord," she whispered, arching her breasts at him. "I was told to bring you your morning coffee." Her nipple pushed back into Aberdeen's finger. He didn't like her audacity. Gripping the nipple suddenly with thumb and fore finger, he twisted as hard as he could.

"Ahhh," she cried in pain, falling to her knees. Aberdeen didn't let go. He twisted the nipple again, bruising her as best he could with just the two fingers. She started to shake and moan as she came. He let go and burst out laughing. She fell over onto her side. Her legs spread open, showing him her wet, glistening pussy.

"I like you," he said, looking down. She watched him, breathing hard. "Play with yourself." He took his coffee and went back to the balcony. Behind him, Melany started to fuck herself with the fingers of one hand and rub her clitoris with the fingers of her other. It was mechanical and lackluster. He sipped his coffee and rummaged through her mind as she fucked herself.

She was the new favorite of his father's. She was the fourth daughter and so of little use to her own father. Her father had given her to the king to garner favor. The king's latest concubine was jealous of her. And was hoping that Aberdeen would kill her. Aberdeen saw no reason to either disappoint his father or appease his mistress. He sat in his chair, sipping his coffee and watching Melany.

"Enough," he said. "Come here." She started to get up, but he waved her back down. "Crawl." On her hands and knees, she crawled to him. She had been going through the motions as she fucked herself, not really enjoying it, but the humiliation of having to crawl to him and service his cock. That got her excited. He grabbed the hair on the top of her head. "Open your mouth," he demanded. She looked up at him, staring into his eyes as she spread her lips. He shoved his dick in. Not going slow. Not letting her adjust. His dick hit the back of her throat and she gagged and coughed. He pulled her head roughly by her hair and then slammed her mouth back onto his dick. She moaned through her gagging, her throat swallowing around the head of his dick. There was a knock on the door.

"Enter," Aberdeen commanded. Melany tried to pull back so that she could breathe. He casually swept into her mind and forced her to stay hilted, the head of his dick blocking her airwaves. Rachel, his hand maiden, swept into the room. Her head was bowed and contrite, but there was a glare of rage directed at Melany. Aberdeen smiled at her. "Ahh," he said. "There you are."

"My Lord," Rachel said, genuflecting deeply, forehead touching the ground. She stayed down, her face planted the ground. "I am so sorry I was not here to greet you this morning. Please punish me."

"Come here," he gestured Rachel forward. She got up and walked to him. She stood before him, ready to accept any punishment he might deem worthy of her indiscretion. Melany started to turn blue, her body convulsing from lack of air. His cock got harder. "You think you deserve punishment?"

"Oh, yes," Rachel murmured, hopefully. Melany lost consciousness and fell off his dick. Aberdeen and Rachel looked at her heaving body as it desperately tried to gather air.

"Hmmm," Aberdeen hummed to himself, thinking and rejecting various punishments. He reached into Melany's mind with his own and snapped her awake. She groaned and started to cum. He laughed in delight. Rachel glared down at the small woman. "I like this one," Aberdeen said aloud to himself. He looked over at Rachel. "Go jump out the window. I have a new hand maiden." Rachel turned and ran out the balcony and jumped off.

"Thank you, My Lord," Melany whispered, her throat sore and scratchy.

"Tell me," Aberdeen said. "Why should you not follow her out the window?"

"I will be more fun to punish," Melany said, getting to her knees. She edged forward until her face was right next to his throbbing dick. She gave it a long lick, from base to tip. "And my father gave me a special crystal ball to give to the king." She looked up at him with devotion. "I will give it to you instead."

"A crystal ball?" Aberdeen sneered. "How useless."

"My Lord," Melany said, rubbing her face against his dick. "This one you will like. My father called it the Orb of Oblivion. It will give you immense power."

***

"You are the crown prince Aberdeen?" I asked, voice dripping in disbelief. "Why did my bounty papers call you Niles?"

"Niles?" Aberdeen said with a laugh. "Whoever is using us, was making fun of you."

"Why?" I glared at him, ready to leap up and kill him. But my body hurt. I needed to rest a little bit more. I experimented with standing up.

"Because in the fae tongue, nilẽs means death."

"What the fuck is going on?" I growled, sinking back down.

"I don't know," Aberdeen said. "And I don't like that one bit." He looked me over carefully, but his thoughts were clearly not on me. "What was the name of your woman? The one you thought I was torturing for a month?"

"Cynthia?" I looked at him suspiciously. "What do you mean, 'I thought you were torturing?'"

"I was clouding your mind," he said nonchalantly, waving a hand at me. "Making you think you saw the person you loved the most."

"No," I said. "You weren't." I shook my head. "That was definitely Cynthia."

"It was Melany," Aberdeen said definitively. "But I think we should discover more about Cynthia."

"Fuck you," I growled. "I was haünnting both of you. She was absolutely Cynthia."

"Amazing," he said, shaking his head in admiration. "We have both been played by a master. But why?"

"Do you know a Galen?" I asked.

"No," he mused, thinking carefully. "Should I?"

"Cynthia said that he was a Fae Lord and was the one who hired her."

"Can you walk?" Aberdeen said, changing the subject. He gave a sharp whistle and his war horse trotted over to him. Standing carefully on one leg, he rummaged through his saddle bags until he found trousers. He tossed them to me. He looked down at my feet. "Sorry, I don't have any shoes for you."

"Do you know how to find a Fae Lord?" I asked, irritated that he was ignoring me.

"No," he said, shaking his head. "But if anyone does, it's Eldric. His tower isn't far from here."

"Oh." I looked at the pants. I needed shoes much more than I needed trousers. I got up and walked gingerly back to where I had left my sleeping slave.

"Where are you going?" Aberdeen demanded. I ignored him. He hobbled after me, sharp intakes of painful breath each time he placed weight on his injured knee. I grinned to myself. When I got to where the slave was, I couldn't stop a gasp of horror. Aberdeen caught up to me as I stared down at the body. "What the fuck is that?" Where there used to be a sleeping man, there was now a desiccated corpse. Withered and bone dry, like all the blood had been vacuumed out of him. It looked like a well-preserved mummy.

"That was a man," I said. "Your fucking orb did that." I grimaced. "And now that fucking thing is in me." I shook off that disgusting thought and stripped the corpse of its clothes. My feet are large and I couldn't fit them into his boots, but after a little work I turned the boots into very ugly sandals. The pants and shirt would do until I could find new clothes. Once I was done, I looked at Aberdeen. "Now we can go," I said.

Eldric's tower was down a horse trodden path off the main road. About a half mile off the road he had set up a small sign. 'Do Not Trespass. Magic.' A few hundred yards later, 'Stay Away. MAGIC.' And then the tower came into view. Three stories high and made of stone, it arced into the sky. There were no windows that I could see. A single door faced the path. Aberdeen slid off his horse awkwardly, hissing in pain when weight landed on his hurt leg. He hobbled to the door. I followed behind, not attempting or wanting to help him. Aberdeen pounded on the door. We waited. He pounded again. We waited. He was about to hit on the door a third time when it suddenly opened. The man standing in the doorway and glaring at us was short and fat. His hair was scraggly and knotted, his eyes were bleary and watery, and his robes needed a good washing.