Vilandra: Terror in the Night (CC Adult) A/N 01/28/08[WIP]

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Vilandra: Terror in the Night (CC Adult) A/N 01/28/08[WIP]

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Title: “Vilandra: Terror in the Night”

Author: suicide_eagle_rath

Rating: CC Adult (sexual content)

Disclaimer: The characters belong to Melinda Metz, Jason Katims, WB and UPN. They are not mine and no infringement intended.

Author’s note: This story is intended for adults, as there is some explicit sexual terminology and disturbing scenes of sexual violence.

Summary: Vilandra is awaken and comes into consciousness through a series of violent dreams that draws Ki'var to her.

PLEASE NOTE: the wonderful banner made by SHIESTY23
<center>Image</center>

,<center>
“Vilandra: Terror in the Night”
</center>

<center>~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ PART 1 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ </center>


The cool mountain night was chilly to Isabel; she was not use to such temperatures, having lived most of her life in the desert. Now they had no choice, she, Max, Michael and the rest were on the run for their lives. Everywhere they had gone the FBI tracked them down, they were ruthless, relentless in their tactics. She had grown so tired of the constant upheaval; her icy barrier had cracked, letting in memories, surrounding feelings, dreams that may not be her own.

Isabel tossed in her sleep, by accident she found herself wandering through the dreams of Max and Liz; their marriage so far was a true bliss, reflected not only on their everyday life but also in their dreams. When she entered, Isabel screamed as she closed her eyes quickly, the last thing she wanted imprinted on her brain was her brother and wife having sex, true it was not real, but still. She concentrated with all her effort to leave, suddenly she felt the environment change as it grew hot, sweltering about her breasts. Her breath labored as if the air was thin, with barely enough oxygen to support her. She cracked open one eyelid to see she was no longer in Max’s dream, but whose was this, hers?

“Vilandra.” she heard the low voice resonate, as she turned to face him, Ki'var the man whom she alleged to have the affair with. “Vilandra,” he again, spoke directly to Isabel. “You have returned, my love I knew it was only time before you awakened fully to your being, your destiny with me.”

“No I cannot be there on Antar.” Isabel’s eyes were wild as she tried to comprehend what had happened. “This is a dream.”

“Vilandra this is no dream, we have cross the fabric of time and space itself, to be here, in each other arms once again.” Ki'var crossed the expanse of the room, as he reached out for her. He was tall, so human like except for the eyes, those black, cold eyes.

“No,” Isabel screamed as she fell backwards, a swirling cloud, the color of India ink rose up, swallowing her.
Last edited by suicide_eagle_rath on Mon Jan 28, 2008 11:33 pm, edited 33 times in total.
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WOW …. Thanks so very much of each one of you for taking the time and leaving feedback. Thnaks again s_e_r :D


<center> ~~~~~~~~~~~~~ PART 2 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~ </center>

Isabel jolted awake to feel the cold air blowing across her bed. The window somehow had opened, she shook her head trying to shake the nightmare from it, ‘I could had sworn I closed it,’ she thought as she stood up. Wrapping a comforter about her, she waddled over to the window and tugged at the bottom sash until finally the window dropped with a thud. She looked out the window, half-expecting to see the Palace gardens beckoning to her, but instead all she saw was the harvest moon illuminating the barren fields below. She jumped slightly as the wind rattled the shutter, against the house, the gray wooden planks vibrating with each slight strike of the frame.

This old farmhouse had a lot of problems, but the rent was cheap as the gang had promised to do some minor fix ups to the property so the local bank could sell it, in a few months time. The bank was in no hurry, the depressed property value in this area was keeping out potential buyers and most of the young people had left town for the bigger cities, to find their fortunes. When Max, Michael and the rest had turned up in Grangeville, looking for work and a place to live, the bank was more than happy to oblige them.

Returning to her bed, she crawled under the heavy blankets and comforters, the farmhouse had no central heating system and the October bitterly cold winds had just begun. She closed her eyes again, just a few hours sleep that was all she needed, just a few hours. Sleep lately had been a commodity to Isabel, once so natural and common was now frail and eluded her. She closed her eyes as she prayed that tonight she would not see those eyes, those eyes that burned of fire yet remained cold as ice.
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There are no words to effectively thank-you each and everyone for the feedback, I am very grateful …s_e_r

<center> ~~~~~~~~~~~~~ PART 3~~~~~~~~~~~~~ </center>

“Hey Izzy you look like shit,” Michael mouthed off as he passed her in the hallway. “What happened? You chip a nail again?”

“Thanks Michael I will remember that,” Isabel snapped, ‘damn men, they all think I am some sort of feeble-minded woman’. With a flick of her wrist, she sent Michael sailing over the banister, watching as he stopped himself, barely a few inches from his face plunging into the wooden floor below.

“Christ Isabel, what is your damn problem?” Michael yelled as soon as he righted himself, “Can’t take a joke anymore?”

“Michael what happened?” asked Max as he stood off to the side watching the antics of the two.

“Nothing, little Miss Ice Princess has lost her sense of humor lately. Almost broke my freaking neck, hurling me off the banister.” Michael spat out as he slammed the door on his way out.

“Isabel, are you okay?” Max looked up at her, her looked disheveled, bags were evident under the raccoon eyes, her face looked drawn, pallor.

“Yeah Max just tired.” Isabel wiped her forehead with her hand, looking down at the floor that almost caused Michael’s death. Isabel stood straight up as she swallowed hard. ‘How could I do that.’ she though, ‘I almost killed him without thinking.’

“Well you do look like you need some sleep, anything wrong?”

“No. No Max, nothing is wrong. Just cannot sleep in a new house.”

“Oh Okay then, take it easy on the hybrids and the humans okay?”

Isabel could not tell her brother of the dreams, no the nightmares, she had been having. She dreamt of Zan and Rath’s deaths, how she watched them die, horribly tortured, their death was a blessing. She also remembered how Ki'var stood next to her. The memories were foggy, but she knew somehow that she was responsible; she had a hand in what had happened.

Of course she remembered what Michael had said about she had been tricked, duped into letting Ki'var into the city. However, was there more? She felt something deep inside, something odd, something was not right.

What she feared most right now was that she had killed them in the past, and now here in the present that she would repast that mistake, repeat the past, repeat the killing.
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WOW and DOUBLE WOW , you guys are spoiling me with all these great feedback… thanks ever so much … is it a dream, reality, even I don’t know, well maybe I do …thanks again to everyone reading and the comments … love to you all …s_e_r

<center> ~~~~~~~~~~~~~ PART 4~~~~~~~~~~~~~ </center>


Isabel kept busy that day, even going out for a early evening jog aong the deserted dusty washboard county road that ran past the farm. She was trying to exhaust herself, to get so tired she would fall asleep and stay sound asleep with no dreams. She took a quick shower, hopped into some warm pajamas, and snuggled down. She sighed as she fell asleep almost immediately.

“Don't scream.” Isabel stirred in her sleep, the voice, that voice, it was so familiar; a deep, rich, resonating quality that was almost hypnotizing at times. The words came again, casually, as if they were meeting at a function in the Palace, “Don't scream Vilandra.”

Isabel's eyes flew open to see suddenly a hand came over her mouth. She struggled to sit up on her bed; unfortunately, he had straddled her, pinning her under the comforter. “Don’t struggle my love, I am here. I am here to rescue you.” He did not hold her down tightly; instead, the pressure of his hand covering her mouth was light, almost gentle as if he was waking a lover, as if she had expected him all along.

His face was obscured by the shadows, Isabel fought to scream, she felt a pang of fear, this was not a human, she struggled to release the hand, only to find herself unwilling to remove or to scream.

"My Vilandra, are you awake, do you not understand me?” The voice rasped against her ear, her mind was wavering; a thick fog seemed to cover her mind.

“You understand what I'm saying; do you not my love, my Vilandra?” The man pulled back, she could feel his hot breath against her cheek, “I'm asking you not to scream, if you insist on screaming, I will make you scream in pain for disobeying me.” The man brushed his lips against her cheek, “You do remember how I can make you scream, don’t you Vilandra?”

Isabel was shaking, she closed her eyes tight, tears had formed, if she wished real hard she believed he would go away. ‘Surely, this was not real,’ Isabel thought, as she forced her eyes open again only to be confronted with those cold black eyes, and a stinging sensation as he slapped her viciously across the face.

“Remember what I am capable of Vilandra, do not disobey me. Understand?”

Isabel was in terror for her life, she did not know what to do. Slowly she nodded her head yes for now she had no other options.

"Good. I see you remember,” Ki'var laughed deep laugh that sent shivers up her spine, “Good now for your lessons my dear. It is time for you to return to me.”
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Thanks everyone for the continued support and the feedback... s_e_r


<center> ~~~~~~~~~~~~~ PART 5 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~


C * R * A * C * K </center>

Thunder cracked, exploding deafening all in hearing range, the night sky illuminated with electricity as a violent storm raged in the heavens above the old farmhouse.

The sudden and sharp sound of the thunder woke Isabel as she shot up in bed, her room flashed on and off with light as each bold of lightening was unleashed. She looked around frantically, where was he; he had to be here in the farmhouse with them. Isabel jumped out of bed and grabbed a long robe to ward off the chilly room. With hand raised ready to strike, she explored her room, under the bedroom the closet, even peering outside the window at the old hickory tree closet to her room. She could find nothing, nothing but dust bunnies and shadows.

Still she was not satisfied, that could not be a dream, she could feel his hot breath, smell his distinct aroma, that was Ki'var and he was there, in her room. Isabel opened her door and cautiously went into the hallway. She silently stole down the stairs, looking through the flashes of light to see if anyone lurked in the shadows. Methodically room by room, she checked all the doors and windows, she explored every nook and cranny, even making her way down into the basement, where she shuddered at the bug infested domain.

She found nothing, but more importantly, she felt nothing, no presence, no eerie back of the neck skin crawling thoughts, no flashes of Ki’var came to her. She took a deep breath as she climbed back up the basement stairs. For a long while she stood in the front room staring outside the huge picture window, watching the dance of fire in the sky, the rhythm of nature filled her veins with erotic thoughts that passed so quickly through her mind, she barely had time to process.

Something was wrong, very wrong. What had she done in the past, why was her memory eluding her. Max had learned to remember a few vital issues and Michael was regaining his memory by leaps and bounds. The key factor she had noticed was that when they were under stress, and with Michael that meant emotional explosions, Max and Michael would have small fragments of past life memory return. Was it because she still damned up her emotions, keeping them in check, not letting her self know the truth out of fear; that in actually she was frightening herself.

The hour was late, as the old house creaked and moaned incessantly as the wind and lightening storm plummeted the fragile exterior shell. Isabel slowly forced herself back up the stairs, as she went down the hallway; she paused at the bedroom doors. Laying her hand on worn door surfaces, she concentrated until she could sense the people inside and what they were doing, once she verified everyone was okay and there was no Ki’var secretly hidden inside, Isabel headed for the bathroom.

Flipping on the old antiquated light switch, which sparked in the darkness, Isabel yawned as she headed for the sink and turned on the facet. She splashed cold water on her face, standing erect; she picked up a towel and patted her face dry. Just as she took the towel away from her face, she saw her reflection in the mirror, there in front of her, was a sight she could not fathomed. A sight that shock her senses so much she fell to the floor in a heap, her head hitting the tile with a thud. She laid there on her side; the one side of her face turned upwards, where in the red swollen flesh a print of a hand was clearly visible.
Last edited by suicide_eagle_rath on Sat Jun 17, 2006 2:07 pm, edited 1 time in total.
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Thanks everyone for the continued support and the great feedback… Mt Gazer thanks for the mention the story “The Protectors” it was very good ... hopefully one day she will finish it…. s_e_r

<center> ~~~~~~~~~~~~~ PART 6 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~ </center>

Michael awoke with a start, something was not right, he could not place his finger on it but the house was different. He slowly slipped Maria’s arms from around and slid out of bed. Throwing on some jeans he quietly opened the door and walked down the stairs; the old staircase reacted to his weight as the boards under him gave a small creak. He stopped in mid-step and shot a small burst of energy under him fixing the joist so he could continue in silence.

He checked the rooms one by one, even taking a gander in the refrigerator, just to verify everything was okay, of course grabbing a left over sandwich out was not a bad tactic, to keep up one’s strength as he continued the search. After looking around some more, he found nothing out of place, but still there at the back of his neck, that feeling, he felt it crawl steadily upward from his gut until it reached his mind, a presence he had not sense in years. That essence which was deep inside him, Rath, awoke alerted to that presence. Before Michael could react, Rath took control and began to systemically look for an enemy he knew had to be there, Ki'var.

He began to climb the stairs, the presence he felt was strongest there, but just as he reached the fourth step, the presence vanish, Rath turned to the windows where the lightening storm was raging. Quickly he reversed his steps, opening the door outside, he waited for a second, yes, the presence was still here, just not no longer in the house, but outside. Rath quietly closed the door and started across the abandoned field towards a small rise a miles distance. He could feel the electricity in the air surround him, the noise was deafening from the cracks of thunder. Just beyond that rise, the lightening was striking the ground repeatedly in the same general location.

Rath had seen that before, in the battlefields over Antar, that was not lightening, not a natural occurrence. He broke into a run, his speed was increased as the alien side of him kick in full fore. For the first time Michael trapped inside his very own body felt the true power of an Antarian, a warrior out to kill a mortal enemy. By the time he had reached the sight of seared blacken soil, Rath was too late; the bolts had vanished and all that remained was the natural lightening storm overhead.

Rath was seething with anger, he had missed him, then it struck him, what was Ki'var doing in the house. He had felt him strong upstairs, where Vilandra was asleep. He started back to the house at a full run. He once again check down stairs quickly and then he climbed the stairs, everything was quiet, Rath wondered if his senses were somehow not reliable because of his human side.

As he entered the upstairs corridor, he heard the water running in the bathroom and laying his hand on the door, felt the being inside was Isabel, safe. He shook his head and headed for his bedroom, when he heard a soft thud in the bathroom. Rath quickly opened the door with his powers where he saw Isabel on the floor, out cold.

Rath closed the door behind him and carefully scooped her head into his lap and he checked for a pulse. Gently he stoked the side of her face, trying to revive her without scaring her. Isabel’s eyes began to flutter, and then slowly she opened them. For a second fear flashed across her face. Then she recognized him, the man she had forgotten so long ago, once again he was holding her in his strong arms. The one man that never failed her.

“Rath,” she whispered “Oh god Rath, he was here, Ki’var was here.”
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Wow thanks everyone for the continued support and the great feedback. Sorry I was out of town for a while and got behind in both my professional work and my secret passion of “ROSWELL”. Thanks again to all. s_e_r :D

<center> ~~~~~~~~~~~~~ PART 7 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~ </center>

“Shhh it is okay quiet” Michael though present in physical form, but it was Rath in mental capacity that spoke as stroked her hair holding her tight against his body. “Shhh Vilandra it is okay.” Having failed to put a shirt on he could feel the soft warmth of her check as it trembled against his skin of his firm taut chest developed from months of physical labor while on the run. As she lie there, sobbing gently, feelings, deep seated in his very soul, held so deep down, those that Rath, the warrior had fought to control, those that he was unable to deny or refuse; those feelings were stirring, beginning to come forth.

Minutes passed, an eternity to their former selves, as they spent the time in quiescent repose; before Rath gently gathered Vilandra into his arms and rose from the floor. Exiting the bathroom he carried her down the hall to her room; she clutched to his broad shoulders, her head snuggled in the crook of his neck. Opening the door with a little alien trickery, he entered, moving effortlessly to her bed where he placed her down. With a wave of his hand, he quietly shut and locked the door. Rath then laid down next to Vilandra and held her as she continue to shake and cry softly, he had not seen his ice princess in this state of vulnerability in such a long span of memory that he had forgotten hoe truly fragile she was. So much had happened between them before their deaths, abundant, copious anger, immeasurable hurt, unfathomable mistrust, all these leading to incomprehensible betrayal on all their parts. Rath closed his eyes, as the flashes of memories pour over him like a waterfall, immersing him in a thick aura, asphyxiating him, dragging him into unconsciousness as he grabbed his chest for a breath.

The morning sunlight streamed into Isabel’s window, as her eyes fluttered awake. She yawned and stretched upwards turning half expecting to see someone there, but the bed was empty. Was it all a dream? Was it her subconscious wishing Rath to come to her aid to defeat those terrifying images in her nightly visits? Isabel was tired, exhausted beyond measure, her mind burned with confusion; she had never felt such a painful sensation before. She forced herself more fully awake, as she threw back the comforter, finding herself still wearing her fluffy robe.

She sat up placing her feet on the floor, expecting to find her slippers where she had left them. Instead she found the ice cold worn wooden planks, looking around she found her slippers dropped one by one just inside the door and then again at the foot of her bed. How odd, she thought as the fog of sleep began to lift from her mind, clearing her thoughts are she became to remember what Vilandra had forged the night before, it was real, it was not a dream.

Suddenly she turned for the vanity table and the hand mirror, she looked at her cheek, there had to be a mark, there just had to be. She stared in the mirror, shaking her head slowly, her skin was flawless, no sign of a mark. Had her skin healed that quickly, she brushed her fingertips across the skin, she swore she could still feel Ki’var’s hand print. Her head started throbbing, at those points right at the temple then spreading back to her neck. She rubbed her neck, as she contemplated if she had total lost it and was crazy.

“Rath he would know, he was here.” The words sprung forth from her voice, as they echoed of the walls in her sparse room. Isabel jumped slightly at the noise, unprepared for herself speaking, the words were foreign; but in what language she had used, truly it was not English. She stared back into the mirror, and saw not herself, but Vilandra, the reflection that she was once, a phantasm of the past staring at her, those alien eyes looking deep into Isabel’s soul as memories were intentionally unleashed, images of events so iniquitous in deeds; scarred and painful reminders flooded her mind. Isabel screamed as she dropped the mirror onto the floor shattering glass everywhere.

Isabel!” Max pounded on the door, “Are you alright?”

Isabel pulled herself together and answered the door, “Yes, I just dropped my mirror and it scared me. Sorry Max.”

“Sure you are okay?”

“Yeah, thanks.” Max turned to leave. “Oh Max is Michael awake yet?”

“Yeah he has been up for hours; he is out at the barn fixing it. Something is under his skin today, been throwing a hammer and boards all morning long. Do you need something?”

“No. I was just wondering that is all. I have got to get a shower, see you later.”

Isabel shut the door and leaned against it, letting her weight settle against the wood. A small smile crossed her lips as she though of Michael his skin glistening with sweat, the muscles rippling across his back as they flexed and contracted. Shaking her head, Isabel tried to clean the senses. “Oh god what am I going to do?” she exclaimed out loud as she sank to the floor holding her head in her arms. Michael had to know, why else would he be perturbed, he had to remember what she had done, how she helped kill them.
Last edited by suicide_eagle_rath on Fri Jul 07, 2006 4:48 pm, edited 1 time in total.
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Thanks so much RiaRath101, KarenEvans, tiredmuse, Flamehair for the feedback and the support. A double thanks to tiredmuse for the bump, one of the few I have ever gotten. Sorry I was a bit late this time, real life keeps interfering....lol s_e_r

<center> ~~~~~~~~~~~~~ PART 8 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~ </center>

Isabel approach the worn dilapidated barn slowly, she pondered what she was going to say. She feared most that Michael remembered; remember her part in their murder. What was she to do, her feelings for Michael were complex, no longer did she feel in control, but rather a new being was being form out of what remained of Vilandra and herself. She could feel the difference already, what was she to become. Isabel stopped in front to the barn, she would let Michael take the lead, see what he said then act on that. If he was angry as Max indicated, Rath maybe in control, and he was not predicable. No, she would keep what information she knew to herself, only allow them to see a small part, it was the only method she knew right now would protect her.

Isabel took a deep breath and then pulled open the heavy sliding door located on the right side of the barn. The door was massively heavy, built of good solid hardwood decades, heaved and moaned on the massive iron rollers as it rolled to the side aided by a little alien know-how. Once opened, the scent of musty old hay gagged Isabel as the hot trapped air rushed out in to the cool of the day. A light snowing of hay trickled down from the rafters above jolted loose by the sudden movement of the door covering Isabel’s plum cashmere sweater. Disgusted she quickly swept the hay fragments off her a she moved away from the foundation and stood in the center of the old forgotten dairy barn.

The tremendous amount of open space size is what struck Isabel with awe as she stood in the center of the barn, the timbers that held up the structure were massive, even the doors and handles were all oversized, as if this were the house of a giant and not once the home to a herd of milk cows. She listened to the high pitch whining sound of the wind as it whistled through missing shingles in the high dome above her head, while pigeons, disturbed by both her presence and due to their natural skittishness, suddenly exploded in a fury of activity as they flew about the rafters.

The barn, built in an L shape, had stalls, once the home to dozens of dairy cows, now lie silent, a testimony to an era gone by, replaced by mass mechanism, cold steel corporate ladders replaced the family farm, lining the sides in a uniform fashion. Isabel walked down the row, remains of the history was still evident in the dirty matted hay stomped down by dozens of hooves, the feed buckets, and even the old worn milking instruments thrown in the corners, useless remnants of age.

In the corner of the L shape Isabel came upon a thick black pond, left over muck and manure that had been plied into one area. Over time, the pile had decomposed into a congealed slime, where gas bubbles percolated up through the ooze, popping onto of the surface, releasing the stench. Isabel crinkled her nose as she gagged at the latest fragrance wave broke the surface. Quickly covering her nose, she edged her way around the sludge, hurrying down the center.

“Hey watch it!”

Isabel stopped in mid-step as a bale of hay came hurling downward, landing just inches from her feet. Looking up she saw Michael, staring sown at her from the loft above.

“What are you doing here, it is dirty and smells. Go on back to the house.”

“I came to see you Michael, Max said you were upset. Are you okay?”

Her question was met with silence as Michael turned and began to bang on the wood joist with his hammer. Hay trickled like rain down through the small slots in the wood, covering the barn floor in fresh sweet odor. In the far distant corner, Isabel could see a twisted old iron staircase that rose to the loft above. The corner was dark, void of light, and she could hear mice scurrying about, under the hay as an old farm cat charged suddenly out of the air, diving under the hay and reappearing with an ugly brown mouse in her jaws. Isabel gulped as she quickly scrambled up the steps.

Michael heard her ascend the stairs, he bite down on his lips, so many events, memoirs, feelings had entered his mind in the last few hours, a whole lifetime had been resurrected; a lifetime Michael was not sure he wanted at this point in his life. So much anger, so much hatred towards the end, he could still feel the bile rise up as Rath swallowed the inevitable, her deserting him, alienating him and their love. Michael feared he could not contain Rath, until this anger passed, until he was able to control the passions within, he wanted to be far away from Isabel, and especially Vilandra.

However, life is not perfect, someone also has to push the envelope, and right now, it was Isabel, in her concern to make sure he was okay. Michael took a deep cleansing breath as he forced the walls into place, locking Rath into a tight embrace, as Michael rose, turned, and faced his past.
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Hi to all
Yes I am back like the proverbial bad penny...lol... thanks RiaRath101, tiredmuse, Duccia and everyone for the support concerning my sister. I am so sorry that I am unable give everyone great news, let us just say that miracles are always a possibility. Slowly getting back in to the writing habit, had a few problems like missing files, but thanks to back up cd’s they were recovered. Please excuse this short part there will be more soon. Thanks again to all. s_e_r


<center> ~~~~~~~~~~~~~ PART 9 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~ </center>


The air in the barn was stagnant, all life seem to had vanish in a breath‘s moment as Michael rose. He was in turmoil, facing her all he could see was that night, the horrendous night that blew his life apart, that night he saw her and him in their bed together. Michael was struggling to contain Rath as the blood boiled up threatening to explode all over the barn walls in fire and hatred. Michael breathed deeply his chest rose and fell in rapid succession not unnoticed by Isabel who could tell the faint tell tale signs of Rath, that look in the eyes, that tightness of the jaw line, his lips drawn firm, his temper was known far and wide on Antar. Michael closed his eyes, the vision flashed through his coronas, the bed, the bodies, glistening, in the moonlight as they spoke words of lust, the air was heavy with sex, her sex he could still smell the scent. Rath was emerging, struggling to come forth to confront Vilandra and her betrayal; it was all Michael to do to keep himself under control.

“What do you want Isabel, I am busy and in no mood to talk.” his lip curled as he spit out the words, this was not the Michael Isabel loved, this Michael was changing, he was different.

“Max said you were upset, why?”

The sweat dripped down onto Michael’s chest rolling down the firm pectoral muscles as it reach a point and then fell one by one, slow agonizing drops to the floor as he stood there, looking her dead in the eye. She felt an immense power emitting off his body in waves, the power Vilandra recognized, the force of a warrior, posed for battle. It was that power that drew her to him, that pure animalistic chemical reaction that detonated into a fiery passion when their bodies touched for the first time.

“Do not ask me you do not want to hear the answer. Now go to the house. I will talk to you later.”

“But Michael, I only want...”

“VILANDRA...” the old timbers quaked in the wake of the sound waves created by his booming voice.

Isabel looked shocked as she heard that voice, the voice from the past, Rath’s voice. Her mind was racing, he knew, he had to know she had killed them. But did she? Oh, god Isabel could not remember that one vital piece, that final day.

Michael quickly fell back into control, he heard his old voice, that deep bass resonating, the voice that put fear into the hearts of enemies far and wide.

“Sorry I am a little tired.” Michael wiped his hand over his face, his eyes lowered he did not want to see Isabel’s reaction to his slip up as he swallowed Rath. “Don’t worry tonight I will be with you in case the dreams return. We will figure this out together. Now go.”

Michael turned and headed over to a big pile of boards that were jumbled together in a heap on the floor, gathered in some distance past to repair the roofs high above. Isabel watched mesmerized as he forgo the human method of beating the hell out of a 2 by 4 and instead using nothing but his thoughts assembled the board in proper length fitting them seamlessly into the broken rafters above. When he was in control, he was flawless in his precision movements, almost eloquent in style. Isabel sighed to herself as she went back to the stairs and left the loft. Nothing had been accomplished in her visit, if nothing else her life was worse.

The sun burned with brilliance when Isabel exited the barn, it was barely noon and there was much of the day yet to be tried and measured. As she walked slowly back to the confining status of the house, Isabel suddenly decided to take a detour and go for a walk thought the barren fallow land to think about what was going on inside her, she felt confused. She no longer loved Michael platonically, the feeling was deepening, she was afraid she would not be able to control a love from the past that was threatening their future. Michel was in love with Maria, Isabel knew she had no right to come between them, not now not in this lifetime. She somehow knew they would live longer than a regular human would, and she had to contain herself, to wait until that time when the two of them would be free to love one another unconditionally. As Isabel stood on a small hill overlooking a babbling brook down below her, she knew she had to sacrifice her life and love now for the sake of Maria and Michael’s love for Maria.

The cold barren tree limbs above her creaked and groaned as the wind slightly picked up. Isabel clutched the sweater tightly around her neck as she sat down on the straw colored grass drawing her knees up as she watch a hawk above circle the sky. Suddenly the hawk nose dived and swooped down onto a patch of land just to her left as it grabbed unmercifully a small field mouse in it treacherous claws. Then within a fraction of a second, a mere blink of the eye, returned to its skyward abode tearing his treasure apart with his beak as he ate greedily. That was her, she was that prey in Ki’var’s claws. It was then Isabel came to the realization that she would not be a pawn in Ki’var’s sick and demented plan, whatever that finally would entail. She would resist him, this time she would not go down without a fight, even if it meant her life; no longer would she be abused by that creature, that animal. He was real, the dreams were real, and somehow he was coming to earth to torment her again.
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suicide_eagle_rath
Obsessed Roswellian
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Post by suicide_eagle_rath »

Thanks RiaRath101 (angel) for th efeedback and all the support.. to all in the chat thanks for puttin up with me and getting me ging. lot of love s_e_r

p.s. thanks and BIG hugs and kisses for my new beta Dreaming in Purple, sh eis incredible...


<center> ~~~~~~~~~~~~~ PART 10 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~ </center>

The moon climbed high into the night sky, as Isabel lay sleeping peacefully. She had run as fast as she could up and down the worn dirt road until exhaustion set in and she had literally passed out on the bed fully clothed. Then slowly, as she fell deeper and deeper into the zone where reality mixes with illusion, her dreams took on the past as once again and she relived that night. That night that changed everything.

“Vilandra.”

She could hear his voice calling to her, enticing her to him. She floated as if on air, into his arms, those powerful arms, encircling her, wrapping her in a blanket of comfort. No that wasn’t right. It was a blanket of treachery.

In this dream, she was not a simple observer, but once again she was a participant. She could feel him, pressed against her, his hot breath upon her neck as he nibble and kiss the flesh exposed to him.

She tried to fight but something was clouding her judgment, making a part of her want him, desire him. She was sure it was not Vilandra inside her; she too was fighting Ki’var, but was also not strong enough. Somehow, he had a grasp on her, a hold on her life, her very being, that he was able to control her at will.

She felt herself being pushed down upon the bed, she felt and saw her buttons open one by one. Her breasts fell heavily out into his hands. She could not help but moan against his manipulations, her body writhed enjoying the feeling. Damned, she felt damned. As much as he repulsed her, her body and mind wouldn’t obey. It was like they were somewhere else, somewhere where she could not control.

She felt his lips against her breasts, teasing the aroused nipples, as he deftly stripped her of her pants. She could see and feel everything happening to her, yet Isabel and Vilandra both felt strangely detached from the events. She watched as he continued caressing her body, coaxing her into responding to him. She felt his lips on hers, yet there was no passion, no feeling deep inside where fire should burn. And when he began to thrust into her, while her body performed as if she was alive and involved in the actions, inside she was dead. It was if he was fucking a corpse. She felt none of it.

It was then that Isabel realized, no remembered, the walls. The granite walls that Rath had taught her to create in her mind to seal herself away, to lock herself up where no one could touch her. Here was the last refuge one took if tortured to the pains of death. Vilandra had built those walls, to conceal herself from Ki’var. She feared him. He was controlling her, and she had to escape. Where did he get this power? How could he control Vilandra to the degree that he now controlled Isabel also?

Vilandra had survived the mental and physical attacks. She had created these walls painstakingly over months as Ki’var had poisoned her cells. She had built the bricks, one by one and laid tem into place. No one could penetrate them, not even Rath, who was a master at the game. Finally, Isabel was seeing a glimpse into those final hours, the betrayal of her marriage bed. And for the first time in many months, she now felt that she was not to blame for the deaths of Rath and Zan, but still somehow, she was there. She saw Rath die, and it had been because of her.

Ki’var continued his assault upon that body, now belonging to Isabel. He was raping her, unmerciful pounding into her. Her thighs showed signs of bruising, blood smeared on the sheets from tearing he’d created inside her. Vilandra held tight to those walls. As the pain became more pronounced, she drew Isabel inside with her, to show her how she lived through all the torture. Isabel stood as a spectator now. She watched with one eye the actions of Ki’var upon her body. It sickened her to see his face twisted in cruel sadistic pleasure as he forced himself harder into her.

“Do you love me Vilandra?”

Words... words that were not part of her, yet were her own voice. Words she heard, those words that night, response to the aged old question,

“Yes, Ki’var. I love you with my heart and soul.”

The words were stoic, devoid of emotion. She heard her voice speak, she felt her throat move as the sound as were uttered. Yet still, they were not her words.

“Why am I here Vilandra?” asked Ki’var.

“Because you are a man. I desire a man not a boy.”

As soon as the words left her mouth, Vilandra imparted the truth to Isabel. She allowed the memory to surface to let Isabel remember the impact of those words. How those words had been devastating to Rath. How he had exploded in a fit of madness, almost killing her and their child.

“Oh lord,” Isabel cried out in that small room. The floor filled with tears. She remembered she had been with child when she died.
Last edited by suicide_eagle_rath on Tue Sep 12, 2006 4:48 pm, edited 2 times in total.
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