CHAPTER 3- The Possession

There was once a time

when all people believed in God

and the church ruled.

This time was called the dark ages.

~ Richard Lederer

***

 A howling wind rattled through the embroidered curtains accompanied with a chilly atmosphere. Alone in a dark menacing room inside an abandoned castle with no portraits, the weather raged with fury.

 The aura was thick and foreign with darkness encircling the wave-like motion in the dark night. The entire castle were built in foreshadowing silence.

 Faint moonlight streamed through the long windows, working valiantly to dispel the darkness inside. On a far end, something could be seen. A single shaft of moonlight shone on the body of a girl. She laid on a small bed with her eyes closed, as though she was dead. She was asleep, but it wasn't her body sleeping but her soul.

 Then her eyes opened to reveal those set of intimidating ocean eyes. Swinging her legs to the side of the bed, she stepped on the cold marble floor barefooted, surrounding with dark fogs covering the landscape with heaviness that could cut through a knife.

 Suddenly, a door appeared in front of her and she walked to it. Twisting the door knob that opened with a loud creak, she entered only to float to through with blinding light. She only stopped floating when another lady in black dress back-faced her, appeared. That same moonlight illuminated her body, but not her face. At least, not yet.

 "Your arrival is sooner than expected. I'm guessing it concerns your sudden visit," Her voice was sweet and lovely, that even without noting her appearance, one would account her smiling.

 'Why I'm i sent to the kingdom of Dragsholm?' She spoke through mind-link and her inner soul turned to face her.

 She had ebony-black hair which complimented that vibrant black dress that swayed like shadows, showing off her alluring figure. Her face were perfectly round, flawless, rather like that of Medusa, but not so long or deeply refined. Her mouth was tender, and her eyes, though big were timid and without unusual color. Dark luxuriant lashes. A great mane of dark hair grew back from her forehead, falling about her almost magically.

 It seemed soft, more dark, perhaps, and so fine that the dark made the mass of it appear faintly translucent.

 Unlike Medusa, whose skin was so pale as it was almost white, a swam of princess she seemed, her cheeks firm and her mouth glistening slightly with lashes very vivid around those dead blue eyes, her inner soul has that one look that fit a serpent.

 "Dragsholm is the start," She spoke with a calm tone. "The castle comes next. Your arrival to the kingdom is all part of the plan. Get the black stone and kill Arthur Hawthorn, Lord of the manor, the crown prince of Dragsholm and illegitimate son of the late King Cassius."

 'This wasn't anywhere close to the plan.' Medusa reminded. 'Why do i have to finish part of your job?'

 Her inner soul shrugged. "There are far important things i need to handle." She walked towards a small table and picked a glass and sat on a couch nearby. "You must know that the black stone is one final touch that lies within that kingdom. I trust you wouldn't dare fail me this time, hmm, Medusa?" She asked in a staid and grave tone as she sipped whatever was in the glass.

 'How does the death of Arthur Hawthorn relates with the black stone?'

 "He wields it." She replied. "It is important to note that he could be, perhaps, not as easy as your preys are. This one is quite interesting... and dangerous too." With a side grin, she sipped from the glass, amusement flashing in her eyes.

 'His destiny is one thing that cannot be prevented, with or without his death. You are aware the implications of meddling with its course,'

 "Sometimes, a little patience is enough for everything to fall into the right place. Patience," She emphasized.

 'Time is not on our side.'

 "Who says we can't control it?"

 'How long is this going to take?'

 "Why don't you find out?" There was an unnerving smile on her lips.

 'What do I gain?'

 "What do you want?"

 There was a long silence between them when Medusa eventually spoke. 'You gone.'

 She laughed. "What more do you desire than to rule over mortals and the earth under your feet?"

 'It is what you desire, not I.' She turned to leave when she heard her say,

 "Let's make a deal then," She proposed. "I have your body on the blue moon and i shall grant you the increase of your life count."

 Medusa gave her a hard glare, 'That's more of a blackmail,'

 "I will reduce your consequence and increase your life count in exchange. Think about all you will achieve without counting your days, calculating your nights, and measuring your breath. I'm sure you're smarter than that," She stood up, striding in elegance as she approached Medusa. "Deal?"

***

 Cold water splashed Medusa's skin and her eyes shot open. The soldiers poured the rest on the other captives that were fast asleep. The exhaustion of the previous day were as a result of their deep slumber.

 "The next time you all sleep like dead logs, i will walk you to your graves. Now move!" A soldier with scarred face threatened gravely. He had a scowl on his face as he watched the captives struggle to get on their feet to begin the deleterious journey of the day.

 The sun as usual, hid somewhere behind a gray blanket of low clouds. It was going to be yet another dreary day, devoid of any hint of warmth. There was a gentle breeze, creating the single sound of rustling leaves. The woody incense of thousands of leaves matting the forest floor, dominating the nostrils. The branches will bend to the will of the whispering breeze, the thick air blotting the entire forest. Yet, they journeyed ahead.

 Few hours of walking barefoot, one of the captives suddenly collapsed, causing the others to fall alongside. "Get on your feet!" One of the soldiers dismounted his horse with heavy steps. He approached the young girl who could barely stand, and gripped her hair harshly. She wailed and cried at the pressure while she struggled causing the soldier to smack her face.

 The others gasped with fear coursing through their veins as they lowered their heads.

 "W-water... P-pl-ease... a d-drop o-or t-two... t-hir-sty..." She begged exasperatedly, tears rolling down her swollen face and the soldiers laughed.

 "Water... please... a d-drop or t-two... thirst-y," He mimicked in scorn and ridicule. There was an uproar of laughter from the soldiers at his gibe play. He joined their laughter before dragging her hair with much pressure. Gone was the amused look.

 "Ah!" She whimpered, grieving in the sudden dirge, with her body trembling.

 "You want water, don't you?" He queried, and she beckoned in melancholy. Then he peeled off his pant and let it drop to his feet, acquiescing his organ display naked in the open. She screamed and pulled her face away, burying it behind her thick locks of hair.

 "N-no... p-pl-ease..." She lamented when he dragged her face forward, closer to where this member stood erect.

 "Now open those mouth of yours," He demanded, feigning adamant to her pleas.

 "I-I'm s-sorry... D-don't s-shame m-e so," At her words, he burst in laughter, dragging her forward to where his member where few inches apart from her face.

 "Don't make me repeat myself." He warned in a cold tone, receiving cries and gasps.

 "P-please..." She stammered as she trembled, sniveling in vulnerability.

 "You either do this willingly or forcefully? So you can decide, hmm?"

 "D-don-"

 "Open your mouth!" She flinched at the tone of his voice. So did the others. With great difficulty, she opened her mouth. "Good girl..." He started peeing into her mouth. She tried breaking free from his grip but he was too strong for her too handle. As the pee kept spurting into her mouth and rushing to the ground, she squirmed in agony with tears flowing like molten lava.

 "Now swallow." She whimpered in disgust as she gulped. At her expression, the laughed in amusement. He pushed her backwards and dragged his pants back to his waist.

 The girl whimpered, her head lowered to the ground, the ache shooting up and down her body.

 The soldier looked at the frightened captives and laughed at the scene. "Dirty pigs!" Then he asked, "Who else is thirsty?" The silence was his amusement. "No one?" he mocked half heatedly as he gazed at each faces one after the other.

 With certainty he will get no response, he walked back to his horse when he heard a voice that rang clear inside his head, the voice daring and intimidating;

 'I'm thirsty,'