The Spider and the Fly, Tangled Webs (COMPLETE)

[William the Bloody]

Spoiler

The shadow of the beast neared the whirlwind, his form melting into the storm disappearing from view as if from a mirage. Moments passed. Then a long, claws had extended past the wall. An arm followed until the entire creature emerged. Black fur adorned it's body, a large tuff on its chest. The creature stepped forward on muscled legs, every inch of the beast a knot of muscle indicative of an apex predator. Massive jaws opened and an unearthly growl emerged. Easily the creature was eight feet tall, perhaps even more so. Raising it's enormous head out released a spine tingling howl.

The head lowered and nearly black eyes stared hungrily at the morsel awaiting him like an offering to a god. Slowly it paced, circling the woman, every step thundering upon the ground. Rounding Sylvi it stopped when it was behind her, where the grass held her restrained. Twenty feet behind her it paused then dropped forward into a crouch. The midnight fur that ran down his spine raising from his hackles. The jaws opened again a low grumble emerging. In the Force a voice seemed to ring from without the storm.

"Worthy? We shall see."

The creature slowly advanced with a tedious pace. Almost as if it was savoring the kill that was about to come. The distance closed to ten feet. Taloned claws rent the earth like a lightsaber through butter, so deadly were the claws. Five feet away. The scent of animal musk drifted from the beast as it closed the distance, it's body heat rising as it prepared to close on the bound woman. The scent of adrenaline and fear roused the creature to a ferocious snarl as it's approach went silent.

[member="Sylvi"]

 

[Sylvi]

Surrender can be a powerful thing.

My reality had been reduced to this; bound to the very roots of the planet, trapped amid a mighty tempest, encircled by a ring of highly-trained, well armed men. The only god in this reality was the monstrous form that as yet did not reveal itself, sending out only a terrifying howl that gripped my spine and shook my shoulders. These were the laws of this reality; I was trapped, unable to move or defend myself. Could I try to fight against it? Perhaps, but what good would that do? Would it just tighten the bonds on my wrists? Would it draw the ire of the ring of men? Would the beast himself be displeased?

No, instead of that, I could choose to surrender.

This was my reality, but it was his domain. People think - incorrectly - that surrender is the easy choice. But to be put to the moment, to face the unknown with so little power to protect you, it can be surprisingly difficult to relinquish it, even if your long-term survival depends upon it.

Sometimes to win the way, you have to concede the battle.

I wanted to be worthy, that is all I have ever wanted. The game William plays with me will never be over, but we both must choose which ground to concede and which to defend. This ground - this was his.

Even so, even as I told myself all of this, I felt a powerful jolt of pure terror snap through my bones as the beast emerged. As the unholy union of a man and a wolf it appeared; black fur and eyes that burned through me like tiny pits of fire. His teeth and claws would draw the envy of the mightiest beasts. He was massive, truly the physical embodiment of the monster that hide behind the face of William the man. It let out a might howl and I felt my stomach drop. Even without the restraints of the long grass, I was utterly paralyzed by fear, my breaths shallow and rapid, as I stared up at it in pure awe-inspired fear.

Like a predator circling his prey, the monstrous lupine creature stalked around me, each mighty paw sending tremors through the ground. I could feel my own form trembling as he moved out of my sight, a fresh wave of terror lancing through me.

Although gone from my vision, I could feel the beast behind me, advancing with agonizing slowness. Never had I felt so utterly vulnerable as right in that moment, with my back to some sadistic demon, unable to defend myself or even look him in the eyes. My shoulders were racked by a shudder, a lump rising in my throat. Before I could stop it, a whimper slipped through my lips, the sheer terror focused and personified into the meek sound, barely audible against the storm. Still closer he drew, the musky scent of beast filling my senses. I had no idea what he planned to do, or if he even expected I'd survive it.

But, like it or not, this was my reality now. And I chose to surrender to it.

"Do it and I will prove it to you."





[member="William the Bloody"]

 

[William the Bloody]

The beast silently approached as the sounds of Slyvi 's fearful mewling beckoned it closer and closer still. Once he was behind her the beast sniffed deeply. He could smell her fear. And, actually, the scent was so strong he could virtually taste it. The bipedal wolf moved around her until he stood before Sylvi, the blue and red highlights dancing upon them. The creature squatted to look her in the eyes even as a rumble echoed from his chest. The beast had diagonal pupils with red flecks that glowed with an internal heat.

“You are now mine. And we shall see if you truly are worthy. A parting gift to always remember.”

The jaw opened with a snarl and the head lowered upon her shoulder, teeth biting deeply and penetrating her skin savagely. The warm, metallic blood sprayed as he swallowed blood. He was just as violent when he released her. Talons rose and prepared to strike, sundering apart the very thing that held them together.

The claws shredded the grass that ensnared her.

Rising the beast looked down upon her. Then the fur began to molt off the creature's body. The sound of bones breaking within the monster was quite audible, his bare skin rolled with each snap and pop. Muscles pulled and retracted as the massive stature of the wolf began to collapse in on itself. The jaw that was retreating back into its head gave her a bloody grin, fangs stained with blood.

Moments earlier was a monster of massive height and girth. But as the body broke down familiar features became noticeable only a handful of seconds later stood the form of William the Bloody. The transformation did not spare his clothing from destruction. An amused smile touched his lips.

“Worthy? Time will tell if I am foolish or if I am wise.”

Turning from her William walked toward the storm wall. A wave of his hand and the lightning and fire dissipated, the wind dying down and the soil falling to the ground. With a measured pace he went to the pavilion went to a chest, pulling out new slacks and a button up black shirt. Swiftly he dressed before sitting down on the throne and began to flip through the journal once more.

[member="Sylvi"] had made her choice, and so had he.

 

[Sylvi]

The monstrous beast approached, forcing these feelings of pure vulnerability and helplessness but staying at my back.

It was... almost intoxicating; the adrenaline and fear and anticipation all swirling violently with me just as the storm wrought the air around us. He leaned in to smell my hair, likely taking in the scent of fear I was no doubt giving off. In tandem I inhaled the musky scent of fur and flesh, that unmistakable aroma of wolf. The scent enhanced the fear already coursing through me, my body responding with instinctive danger, must flee responses.

But of course, I could not. Even if I could... I felt almost mesmerized, the rhythmic thud of his paws on the grass the metronome that kept me in this trance. Finally, he came to be in front of me once more, lowering his heavy form until I could look into those diagonal pupils, and the void beyond them. The fire of his soul burned so bright I saw it flickering in those terrible, alluring eyes. The cruelest member of my family could only dream of having a gaze so intense. Like prey before a hunter's light, I was utterly trapped in them, staring in stunned awe.

He spoke, that deep voice rumbling almost within the very force itself.

With the panic rampant in my mind, it took a few moments to comprehend what he'd said, but by the time I realized, it was too late to even brace for it.

The beast lowered its great head, his maw suddenly clamping down on my shoulder. Dozens of razor-sharp teeth suddenly drug into my shoulder, tearing with reckless abandon into the soft flesh. The agony was exquisite, all my pent up fear and anguish unleashed in a long, loud shriek. The residual skirtopanol in my system did its job perfectly, trebling the agonizing bite until the white-hot pain seemed to envelop me completely. I could barely tell the intense pain from the warm wetness of blood on my shoulder as the telltale iron scent filled the air.

It was with the same bestial aggression with which he had bitten me, that the enormous beast released my shoulder. I screamed once more at the violent ripping of his fangs removing themselves from my flesh.

The pain was so great, greater than anything my family had visited upon me. It sapped what strength that I had, leaving me collapsed on the grass, gasping, whimpering, barely able to lift my head to see him raise his claws high. In too much agony from the bite, and with no strength to speak of, I was powerless to brace myself as they came down. But rather than on me, he tore at the grass, releasing me from my bindings.

I dropped, panting, to the ground. My free hand to the deep found, hovering over it, unwilling to touch the torn flesh. Taking a few moments to catch my breath, I glanced up to see the monster shifting and changing, becoming William again. He stood before me almost poetically bare. It seemed fitting, now that I had seen all that he was.

"Thank... you." I managed to gasp through the wincing.

He mused, wondering whether his decision had been wise or foolish, before making his way back to the pavilion, probably for fresh clothes. For several long moments I stayed in the grass on my knees, the sheer, writhing agony from his gift throbbing in time with my hearts. At least one of them had probably been punctured, but that wasn't as dire for an Atoan as other near-humans, I had spares, after all.

By the time I found the strength to pull myself up from the grass, the man was dressed once more, seated at his table and idly flicking through the journal.

With my good arm, I reached for the hem of my dress and tore a sizable portion of the light fabric, letting out a loud cry as I wrapped it around my shoulder. Wincing as I pulled it tight, I used my teeth to securely knot it. I'd need to find a medical center soon, for sure, but for now this would stem the bleeding. Finally, I walked towards the pavilion.

I moved to beside his chair, lowering myself to my knees with my good arm touching the table to keep myself steady. Peering up at him, cradling my other arm to my chest as my injured shoulder continued to throb and bleed a little, I spoke,

"I would return the gesture if you'd permit me."

As I spoke, My fingers moved to the table to a small knife. Taking it in my hand, I gingerly reached up and took a thick lock of hair in my hands, slicing it off in one swift motion. Replacing the blade on the table, I tore another strip from my dress and tied it around the lock of hair, finishing it in a neat bow. The strip, once snow white, bore a read streak from where I'd bled upon it, loose threads almost floating about it. It definitely did not look like much, and any normal person would likely shun such a thing. But... I sensed that William was far from normal.

After all, a witch knows more than most the dangers of giving such a thing to another person.

I placed the offering on the table before him, where he could choose to take it or leave it. Then I stood with a wince, once more cradling my arm as I stepped back from the man.

His, after all.





[member="William the Bloody"]

 

[William the Bloody]

Blood dripped from the corner of his mouth. Taking a silk handkerchief he lightly wiped his face clean. As for the crimson flow that he had drank he swallowed the taste and committed it to memory. Blood was looked at so simply despite the plethora of opportunity that it offered. The taste, the scent, was burned into his mind never to be forgotten. He slipped the handkerchief into his pocket. Sighing contentedly he watched from the corner of his eye as Sylvi approached. Deft fingers continued you flip the yellowed and aged pages of the journal.

She arrived and knelt, like the good little vassal she had become and spoke. Without acknowledgement she reached for a small paring knife near the platter of food. Typically he would never allow someone so close to his person to handle a weapon, yet he sensed no hostile intent. And after her offering and his acceptance he feared no devious ploy. The Knight Hunters had sheathed their blades and taken up positions around the pavilion having outwards. Theirs was not to question or observe their Lord and master. Only to obey.

The Lucite woman cut her hair and tied it with a strip from her ruined dress before placing it on the table top as an offering to her new deity. She stood and stepped back slightly as he lazily regarded the small gift. His free hand moved over it and it disappeared from view. Finally he turned to look at the young woman.

*You belong to me. In totality. The Lucites used you to bring more knowledge to their dismal coffers, more servants to their will. They subjugate and break their lessers to ensure complete obedience so that they grow fat upon the works of your hands while keeping you never them.”

He stood, the journal being closed and held in his hand, as he faced her. His eyes ran down her form before returning to look within her own eyes.

“Make no mistake, you belong to me. But I will not break you like a work animal. No, I will bend you, push you, make you scream. And as you think you have reached your breaking point I will nurture you, heal you, teach you. No, I will not break your spirit, but you will wish I had. However, in time you will thank me. In time you will be more powerful than those that sought to destroy and control you. Perhaps in time you will stand nigh an equal. Perhaps.”

His left hand waved between them, fresh pain sparking in her wounds. Ravaged flesh would knit, crimson tears leaking from half healed wounds. She would be able to function normally but she would still feel the aches that he had visited upon her. The wounds would scar unless she had them removed. His right extended, offering her the first morsel of knowledge. The journal of Hari, an elder Lucite. His empty hand waved at one of the trunks, the lid raising, revealing clothes of various types. Taking a seat once more he reached out and took a fruit of the platter, his teeth biting into the flesh of the fruit even as his eyes traced the wounds upon her skin.

[member="Sylvi"]

 

[Sylvi]

It was strange.

I had lost the game. I had failed, not only to get under William's skin, to weave into his mind and unravel his secrets, but I'd also failed to protect my own mind from him. Yet, I didn't lament the loss. It didn't feel like I had lost. Was this how a wild banther felt after it had been broken as it would pace the farmer's corral? Was it... okay, to feel like this? My family did not tolerate failure, and some very important lessons would normally follow this. But, this felt different.

Even still, we continued to test one another; to study and watch, to observe and calculate. I felt him stiffen ever so slightly as I had reached for the blade, however he allowed me to use it, watching for what I did.

The gift was silently accepted is he swiftly removed it from the table. Although he chose to neither speak nor acknowledge it in any way, the gesture in itself told me enough. If it was not worthy, he wouldn't have taken it. If he suspected magic, he might have destroyed it, I'd seen his command of fire already. So even though he did not speak in thanks or even acknowledge the gesture, I felt a strange warmth as he took the offering; whether he realized it or not, it was his very first true sign of trust.

And with how much I had my own trust drawn out and placed in him, it felt good to see at least a mote of it returned.

He turned to look at me, and I felt the urge to avert my gaze to his chest. Of course; growing up, we weren't permitted to meet the eyes of our betters. And William was... had become my better. He spoke, and I noted a strange pang sing through my veins as he mentioned that I belonged to him, totally. It was like excitement, almost, a sense of anticipation, not the fear or despair that likely met most others who found themselves in this position.

Well, I'm not like many others.

I stepped back a little as he stood, allowing him room. His words resounded deep in my very core, promises that drew fear, anticipation, and longing all. Oh, the secrets I would learn from such a life! He promised to take the foundation my family had laid, and sculpt it into something powerful, something dangerous... something almost equal.

"Thank you... my Master." The words bubbled up from my chest, erupting before I even fully realized them myself.

Presently, the man raised his hand, and I suddenly cried out as my body was racked by a new wave of sharp pain radiating from my shoulder. I gasped, my knees buckling as the agony ripped through me, the wounds forced to knit themselves closed. My good hand moved to my shoulder, fingers curling over the wound as my eyes squeezed shut, bracing myself as the sharp pain rolled over me. I had been right, I could feel a tiny heart re-ignite and begin beating once more as William's power in the force mended it.

Finally, the pain subsided, ebbing away gradually as he held out the book.

I accepted it, focusing on calming my heavy breaths as I gently held it close, my gaze moving down to the cover. I took a moment to read before something moved out of the corner of my eye. A trunk had opened, revealing clothing inside. My gaze turned back to William, watching him return to his seat and take a fresh piece of fruit, his eyes seemingly lazily upon my wounds. I hugged the journal under one arm, my fingers moving up to trace over the now-closed puncture marks. The flesh was still tender, rough and raised where it had mended imperfectly. Even the lightest caress from my hand ignited a dull ache under the skin.

A soft smile curled at the corners of my lips.

Turning, I moved to the trunk, dropping to my knees to gently look through the clothes within. My own simple dress was no more, now just bloodied rags that hung from my one good shoulder. My eyes widened as I spied a beautiful dress folded near the top. It had a wide neck and cinched waist with ties running down the back, the skirt falling luxuriously down to the ankles. Flattering was barely the right word for it.

With a slight sigh of awe, I gently pulled it out, glancing back over to William as if for permission.

I hesitated for only a moment before slipping out of my old dress, laying the book on the ground for the moment. After all, William himself seemed to have little care for nakedness, perhaps a byproduct of his shape-shifting, and his knights had returned to their posts. With a sharp breath, I peeled away the old dress, balling it up to use as a rag to clean off whatever blood remained smeared on my skin.

Pulling my long hair over my shoulder, I pulled on the new one, letting out a sharp wince as I moved my arms behind myself to tighten the lacing. Finally, I collected the journal once more and approached the table.

"What now, Master?"





[member="William the Bloody"]

 

[William the Bloody]

The eyes of the great Dathomiri searched for that which was calling to him, the blood that called to him. The blood of the woman whom he had marked with his blade. Prowling through the wreckage from the catastrophic explosion he tracked his prey through the haze of dust and smoke. He would not lose his prey, her scent firmly entrenched he stalked forward into the adjacent building.

William sat in stoic silence in the darkened room. He felt his pet begin to near, the woman entering the high rise from below. Still she clung to her mirage of nothingness, cloaked from sight. She would succeed where earlier she had feared failure. She had overcome her most dangerous obstacle to rise above such deterrents.

Sylvi defeated herself.

Manipulating the young woman was entertaining, yet it was not the sole purpose of the act which on the surface seemed frivolous. She had been forced to face her own limitations as well as what she was capable of. And she had been forced to accept that her opinions of her potential were incorrect as clear vision raised her false estimation of her future from an impossibility to the range of hopeful achievability despite her former masters painstakingly imparting of spirit of worthlessness which became the justification and excuse for the witch being sent to gather knowledge rather the being granted loftier position,

Yes, she would be an interesting and entertaining project.

In the lobby of the first floor a turbolift opened its doors and a Droid appeared waiting for any to come aboard. The Droid was dressed in a long, black trenchcoat and a stetson pushed back on its metal alloyed head. The rainment concealed all but the neck and face which did not gleam from polished finish like the majority of its kind. A matte paint covered the shell of the Droid. A final scan of the lobby and the mechanical lifeform re-entered the turbolift to randomly punch a few floors on the touchscreen controls, just for something to do while completing the letter of his command and programing. It was to be, in essence, a bellboy and custodian.

Above in repose William felt the amulet, which depicted two dragons in perpetual chase, begin to warm upon his skin. A flicker of something he couldn't identify brushed his thoughts before dissipating from his mental faculties. Swiftly he withdrew his mind beneath vastly large barriers while he sought the source of the feeling. The idea that it could have been his pet almost made him reevaluate the wisdom of taking a relatively unknown being into his confidence. The thought passed as he had personally vetted, explored, and vigorously interrogated Sylvi.

Anticipation began to grow as he watched the entrance to the suite . Continuing to ponder the things of necessity he gathered using his personal resources, William knew the time was nearly at hand. His fingers tapped a tempo upon the arm of the throne-like seat as expectation of her imminent arrival began to rise, frustration at his pet not appearing in a timely manner had yet to begin. But would soon if she continued to prolong her return.