Greetings all. I have been in a hiatus for far too long. Here is another story that popped into my head one day. Too much Tolkien reading, I guess. :) Please feel free to e-mail me with any comments. Thanks, David.

The Dark One

by David M. Roduner

Chapter 2

John felt weak. He was controlled again. His bed banged loudly against the wall as Steven moaned in rhythm with it. Weak, John was weak. Controlled by his lust. "Fuck me Johnnie," Steven whispered with urgency, an animal glaze run over his eyes. John hated Steve's nickname for him, but it gave Steve his desired result. John's anger caused him to thrust inside of his sexual partner harder and more rapidly, releasing moans and screams from Steven. "Goddamm," growled Steve, "you were born to do this to me. Harder!"

Hmph, thought John, I am nothing but your outlet.. just as you are for me. A double-edged sword, I suppose. Steve's legs clamped more tightly around John's back. Steve pulled John's face into his, even though they were only inches apart. They exchanged a manic kiss as Steve was fed the food that he always hungered for. Steve begin to whimper amidst the kiss, and his whole body soon squeezed down. He sighed contentedly soon thereafter. His eyes went up to meet John's. "You can stay in there," he said breathily, "as long as you want." John's eyes rolled in response.

"Thanks," he mumbled.

The boy was meditating on a hill covered with soft green heather. The object was next to him, quiet. But it called out him: You have a question for me. The boy's eyes flew open and he looked down. "Yes," he replied, "I need training to wield you."

Wield ME? One does not wield me. I wield you.

"Even so," continued the boy, "I am not a swordsman. I know not how to do these things that warriors take for granted."

You think I wanted a swordsman? If I had wanted one, I would have chosen him. But I chose you. I am not a sword for some fool. I am not a sword at all.

"What are you?" he inquired.

I am time and I am death. I am life and I am your breath. Close your eyes now, foolish boy. For when this tale is done, two souls will join and mend into one.


Yes, souls. Your mate is not of this time. But that shall be mended. I am time and I am death.

"But.. but.. I must tell you, Lifeshield, that I have no mate. No woman can quench my thirst. I am sick and perverted. All have told me so. The priest thinks I am possessed."

You are not. You are life and love. Your task is not an easy one. Your mate is not female.

The boy gasped and smiled at this response. His joy was soon crashed by the sound of horsehoofs galloping in his direction. "Lifeshield! I know not how to use you! What do I do?"

Foolish boy. I wield you. Now grab me and we shall do what we must.

The boy picked up the object. It was strangely light. At first glance, one would have thought that Lifeshield was a broadsword with a tri-pronged shield attached to its center. But at the top of the sword was a crystal ball that glowed a faint green. After holding Lifeshield, the boy knew what to do. RUN.

"Kill the boy or leave him; it matters not! But get the weapon!" bellowed the captain.

John sat on the bed, numb. Why had he just done that? He felt dirty; he felt like he had been used. Yet he had used Steven as much as Steven had used him. Consensual sex, he mused. Pah! Steven jumped on the bed next to him, fully clothed, and kissed him on the nipple. "Sure you don't have enough for another round?" Steven sensually uttered, thinking that his actions were somehow alluring.

John looked over at Steven's cute little face and smiled, laughing softly. "I'll catch you later, Steve," he replied.

Steven got off the bed and knelt down before John. "What's wrong, babe?" he inquired. "Are you feeling uncomfortable with this? I thought we had an agreement and that it was cool. No relationship shit. Just hot," he continued, tracing his finger down John's naked thigh, "lewd, wild sex."

John laughed softly and ran his fingers through Steve's hair. "It's not you. It's.. me," John finally said, grimacing as he heard himself utter the old line he'd been told many times before. Steve sat up and looked directly into John's eyes and ran his fingers over John's face."I'm sorry.. That's not fair to you.. I'm just.. weak," John quietly said, sensing Steven's pain from his rejection. John always had that gift.. sensing pain. Whether physical or mental, he could feel it. Sometimes he even developed a weak form of the person's pain. John hated that.

Steven looked down to the floor and squeezed his eyes shut. He looked back up at John with teary eyes. "Apology.. accepted," he said, forcing a smile. With that, he grabbed John's hands and moved them to his formfitting jean-covered butt. "You still owe me, though." John closed his eyes in bliss. Steven knew his biggest weakness. A nice, round male.. Knock, knock. John removed his hands from Steven's beautiful posterior and threw on a shower robe before answering the door.

A handsome olive-skinned man stood at the door. He was very Italian: 5'11", 160 lbs, lightly muscled, black hair, brown eyes, and dressed to kill. He had on a hunter green suit and an almost beige dress shirt. "Jonathan," he said rather than asked, rather smoothly. John immediately sensed Steven's jealousy. They stood at the door looking at each other for what seemed like hours. "Do you mind if I come in," he again said rather than asked. John stepped out of his way and the stranger entered John's shabby home. He walked to a sparse table and sat down in one of the two chairs.

John sat in the other one. Steven walked up, observing the situation. John was sure he would leave in a jealous rage. Strangely though, he looked at John and asked if there was a third chair. Steve, of course, knew that there wasn't. "In that case," he said, "I shall just sit here," at which point, he sat on John's lap, making sure to open John's robe before doing so. It was then that John noticed that he had changed clothes.. Steve was now in his clubbing shorts, which let you see and feel everything. Steve wiggled a bit to make sure John was right in-between, exactly where he wanted it.

"Now that you boys are settled," began the stranger, startling everyone, "we can begin." He looked right into John's slightly glazed eyes. "Do you have it yet?" John raised an eyebrow in his best Spock impression. "You know what I mean. You are the healer! There are some who would want you join with.. another who has the other half. But you must not, you understand?!" the stranger exclaimed, slapping his extended palms onto the table surface. "You must not. Such terrible things will happen! All balance will be destroyed." John just sat there, confused and stunned. The stranger finally observed Steven. "Anyway, you don't need to bond with this other. You already have one. I can see.. Yes, you two were meant to be together. He desires you. He needs you. Worry not over the boy with that old rusty weapon. He will only hurt you. But this," and the stranger paused, as if to read something, "Steven.. he is the one for you. Yes, take him. Fill him. Be with him and stay away from the evil boy. The boy doesn't want you. He can't do for you what Steven will."

John blinked and found himself in his bed, Steven's lighter and more agile body on top of him. Steven was a tiny thing at 5'8" and 120 pounds. His skin had a soft tan to it, accenting his dark hair and hazel eyes. He was practically hairless; whether that was by nature or razor, John never bothered to ponder. The little nymphomaniac was as naked as John, rubbing his body against John's overly sensitive skin. This time John did not feel weak. He wanted this. This time he pulled Steven's lips to his, exchanging their desire. This time his hands went down and grabbed Steven and squeezed his soft yet firm cheeks. He then stood up with Steven, and had Steven get on all fours. This time he applied the lubricant and hastily pulled on the condom. Steven spread his legs in thrilled anticipation. And as John entered him, Steve said, "I love you."

The boy ran. Faster than he had ever run in his life. Ga-lup, Ga-lup, Ga-lup! The riders were gaining on him. "Attack in the name of the king and in the name of the great Mørkt Servio!" So it has been done, thought the boy. The Dark One has taken control of the king completely.

The captain signalled for his men to stop. A voice whispered in his ear: I have the other one. He has not been chosen. Just kill the lonely creature and get it out of my hair.

The captain tried to smile, but snarled instead. He pulled out his crossbow and aimed. But the boy was gone. "Damn!" he shouted, hearing his voice echoed by the hills.

"Wait a minute," said John. "How did we get here? We were sitting at the table with.. Lord, I let a total stranger into the house. How could I be so stupid?!"

"What are you talking about? Look, just keep going.." Steven replied.

"How did we get here? We were at the table."

"You're just imagining things."

"I am not," John adamantly replied. Suddenly, Steven quickly gasped and fell onto John's body, almost lifeless. But he was still breathing. John looked to the side of the bed and saw the stranger.

"I was hoping you wouldn't remember. But those with your.. gifts, as some call it, aren't as controlled by me. Ah, well. Since you do not want this boy, I shall take him," the stranger said.With that he squeezed his hand into a fist and jerked it upward. Steven made a choking sound.

"What are you doing?!" John manicly yelled in fear.

"Taking that which you do not want."

John then whipped his head around to his closet as he heard a humming emit from it. A red light seemed to drip onto the floor. John returned his attention to Steven. "Don't leave me," John sobbed turning around to let Steve lay on the bed, as if the comfort would heal him.

"This.. had to happen, I think," Steve said. "We will.. meet.. again." Steven closed his eyes to rest, never to awake.

"You fucker!" screamed John, his naked frame jumping onto the stranger, choking him. The stranger opened his fist and gently pressed his palm onto John's face, which caused John to fly against the closet door in a useless wreck of flesh.

"Wake up," growled the stranger, kicking John with his green aligator skin shoes. John blinked and looked up at the creature that had killed what he had just gained. "What's in there?"

"Get away from me."

"It's in there, isn't it?" the creature continued, ignoring John. "You've had it all along. Hiding it from me.. Thinking you could outwit me! Ha!"

"Who are you?" John uttered, tears streaming from his eyes.

"I have many names," it responded, finally acknowledging John. "But you may call me Mørkt. Isn't it lovely how it slips off the tongue?"

"What do you want from me?"

"Only the object that's in there. You have no use for it. Give it to me.. I might even bring back your boy."

"He's not a boy. He's a man. He's mine."

"Ah, so now you want what you would have gladly tossed aside. Humans are such strange creatures."

"I'm going to kill you. Whatever you are."

"Stupid human! I am not mortal. Therefore, I cannot die. But you can.. unless you give me the object in there."

"The only thing I have in there is a gift I never opened from my aunt.. too many memories. I don't want to look at it."

The Dark One laughed. "Ah yes, Teresa Talbert. It was particularly enjoyable to destroy her. Her soul was strong. But I, of course, am stronger." John looked up with a fury he had not known for a long time. The Dark One snapped its fingers, causing John to stand. Now bring me the object. John mechanically walked into the closet and brought out a large box wrapped with a bright red bowtie.

He opened it, and found a metal.. thing.. covered with green tarnish. The object stood four feet tall. It looked like a lance with a bisecting cross three quarters of the way down. On this cross were two leather hand straps, one on each side. On the top of the object was a red crystal orb. As John touched it, he felt different. Older, wiser, energized. All-seeant and all-knowing.

"Perfect. I just need you to hand it to me.. and I'll consider making Steven's heart start again."

This memory raised a fire in John. He pulled up the lance-like thing in preparation to strike the Dark One. "Fool," he yelled, "you cannot kill me. I am nearly invincible! You humans are too weak to destroy me!" Without thinking, John knew what he had to do. He struck. The beautiful face was splattered with blood as John chopped off its evil head. But it didn't fall to the ground. The clothes fell, but the body was gone. A sinister hiss was heard on the floor. John kicked the clothes away and found an ugly brown acid-like liquid eating away at his floor. "I.. shall.. return.." a whispery voice said. And then all was gone.

But Steven lay on the bed, lifeless.

Melinda picked up her phone. "Yeah?" she answered, sleepily.

"Mel.. he's dead.. Steven is dead!"

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