Thread: A Sinister Realm of Fables & Bloodlust (darkangel76 x Rauk)

Every movement brought painsearing, hot, unforgiving pain. Guinevere could feel the relentless bite of the metal barbs against her soft flesh as her muscles tensed in fear, flexing in reaction to her most dire of situations. The air was oddly cold, though somehow despite how muddled her thoughts had become, she figured it was due to blood loss more so than to being naked or to even being in what appeared to be some dark, dank room located deep within the crypts of Castle Camelot. She was sure that she and her beloved...oh yes, she knew Arthur was there, she could feel his presence, sense him...were somewhere deep within its bowls. Guinevere's breaths were short as she tried her best to breathe, panting on the stale, rancid air that swirled about her body, as she lied theresprawled and vulnerable to whoever had splayed her in such a distasteful fashion. She could feel her blood oozing from each knick on her pale flesh, her dark hair plastered to her face as she stared upward at a ceiling that seemed to disappear into oblivion, clearly a trick of the eye...or was that just the blood loss once more? Blinking her blue eyes, Guinevere tried to look away from the ceiling. In vain, she dared to twist her head to the side in hopes to see where Arthur was, but it was no use. All the motion did was bring back more pain. Just then she heard the wizard's chuckle. It was amazing how something that used to be so familiar and so warm suddenly seemed so cold and disturbing. How had things changed so drastically? Her eyes fluttered shut just then as she listened to the old man taunt her beloved. The hatred seethed through her veins like acid, tearing them apart from the inside out. It was her . That woman, her beloved's half-sister! She followed the devil, heard his voice! Evil! That's what Morgan Pendragon was! Yes, the hatred ran deep, right to Guinevere's very core. A shiver ran along Guinevere's spine as she heard the light sound of footsteps walking down a set of stone steps. Somehow she knew who it was. Morgan. Morgan smiled as she gracefully, languidly descended the stone steps and made her way past the altar where Guinevere lied. Her hand brushed against the marble so lovingly and she moved on toward where Merlin stood in all his glorious wonder. She marveled at his radiance, as his dark power seemed to emanate in dark waves. Flicking some of her red hair over her shoulder, she sucked in a sharp breath, her chest rising as her lungs filled to their capacity and slowly she exhaled. The room smelled of blood and death and fear. It was utterly exhilarating! Pale skin flushed as a sweeping heat moved across Morgan's face and down along her neck, along the swells of her heaving breasts. She smiled and let a delicate hand move along Merlin's shoulder. They are ready, she said almost stoically, though a hint of giddiness resounded in her tone, unable to hide her elation. Guinevere let out the smallest of whimpers just then causing Morgan to glance over at the bound and helpless queen. A smirk tugged at the corners of her lips and she giggled softlya sound of victorious triumph. Unable to stay awake, to take the pain, Guinevere succumbed to the overwhelming sensations that ripped through her tiny body as the barbs cut deeper, blood causing tiny rivulets to drip down along her pale flesh in every which way... finally giving in to unconsciousness, finally giving in to darkness.