Date: Mon, 17 Mar 2008 19:39:13 +0000
From: Guy Cornelius <the_elemental909@hotmail.co.uk>
Subject: The Elemental Chapter 2- Gay Sci-fi

AUTHORS NOTE: All the usual copyrights and disclaimers apply. You
may not copy, reproduce or forward on this story without the express
permission of the author. If it is not legal for you to be reading this where
you are, please try to make sure that nobody catches you ;-p.

Any feedback, positive or negative, would be greatly appreciated. I would
love to know what you really think of the story and how you think it
might be improved. My email address is listed at the end of the chapter.

I would like to take this opportunity to thank all those of you who offered
to proof-read for me and to give special thanks to Paul for all his hard
work in helping me get chapter 2 ready.

Chapter 2.

Marcus was frantically running all round his apartment looking for
Tommy or any clue as to his whereabouts. He was desperately trying not
to think because he knew if he let himself think, he would start imagining
the most terrible things had happened. The idea that something bad may
have happened to Tommy, and because of him no less, made his heart
wrench. He had only just found this guy and he was damned if he was
going to lose him to some egomaniacal bastard on a power trip.
Eventually, after running around the apartment and the roof in a thorough
search, he collapsed from sheer exhaustion. His body simply couldn't
take any more. His heart, broken as it was, was pounding in his chest,
desperately trying to pump his blood round his body to keep up with the
needs of his now screaming muscles. Now that he had stopped, he
realised that his shirt was soaked with sweat and was starting to irritate
his skin so he removed it, leaving his bare chest glistening with a sheen of
sweat and heaving as he took in great, gulping breaths.
He lay down on the floor of his bedroom, tears streaming down his face
for the second time that day, whispering the same phrase to himself over
and over again like a mantra.
"Please come back to me Tommy."

Some time later, once Marcus had fallen into a fitful sleep, the door to his
apartment slowly opened, the figure behind it being very careful not to
make a sound. The man, dressed all in black, with a balaclava over his
face, crept around the apartment until he came across Marcus in his room.
Marcus, his face screwed up in consternation, as though experiencing a
particularly bad dream, did not even feel the cudgel as it struck him on
the back of the head, ensuring he remained unconscious.

He didn't know where he was, how long he had been there, why he was
there, or even what time it was...in fact, all Tommy knew was that his
head really hurt and he couldn't feel his hands properly. All he
remembered was falling asleep again on Marcus' bed after he went in to
work, then a strange noise woke him and after that, he woke up in a dark
room. So far he had managed to ascertain that he was in chains, with his
arms up above his head and that he was still naked.
Unfortunately, the problem with being left alone in a room with no light
is that you have no way of tracking time so Marcus wasn't sure if it was
ten minutes later or two hours later, but eventually a door opened on the
far side of the room and two figures walked in. As soon as the door
closed, a powerful spot light turned on above Tommy's head, bathing him
completely in a dazzling light. The sudden change made him clamp his
eyes shut, so he had no idea what they looked like. After a few seconds
he was able to open his eyes slightly and noted that one was a fair bit
taller than the other and once they started talking, he was able to work out
that they were both male. Any more than that was impossible to
distinguish as they stayed well into the shadows.
"This one will do fine. Start tomorrow," said the taller of the two.
"Yes sir."
"How are the other subjects faring?" He sounded very much like he was
asking out of necessity rather than interest.
"Well, we have had some success with the procedure. However, as soon
as the link is established they lapse into a coma."
"For how long?"
"Most haven't woken up yet," replied the second speaker, with something
that sounded a little like fear in his voice.
"How tedious. Well, if they haven't woken up within the next few days,
dispose of them and move on to the next group."
"Yes sir."
With their short dialogue over, the two men left, once again leaving
Tommy in darkness.

When Marcus came round, he too found himself chained up in a darkened
room, however, his chains were much less restricting than Tommy's. His
arms were chained together at the wrists, which then had a long chain
attached to the wall. All this really meant was that rather than hanging
from the ceiling, he had the freedom, if it can be called that, to pace about
his rather small cell. This, however, was the last thing on his mind. At
first he was so groggy, just about the only thing on his mind was pain but
slowly his senses returned to him. Once his ability to form a coherent
thought returned his heart broke all over again. He remembered Tommy,
and the terrible thoughts he had been trying to keep at bay returned to
him.
'He's probably being tortured, or worse, dead,' he thought to himself.
'I'm so sorry Tommy. Can you ever forgive me?' he started sobbing to
himself. Without Tommy, his life didn't seem worth living.
'Why bother trying to escape for if there is nothing out there for me?' and
with that, he lay down on his side and resigned himself to whatever fate
had waiting.
Some time later, after dwelling on how awful life was, he remembered
the box. He still had it in his pocket from when that 'voice' left it there at
the lifts. He reached into his pocket and pulled it out. It was about the size
of a large matchbox and felt to be made of plastic. Unfortunately, the lack
of light meant that he was unable to see any more than that.
"If only I could produce a flame," he said out loud. "Then I would be able
to see it fine." He laid the box in his lap and then brought his right hand
out in front of him, using all his concentration to produce a flame. For
what seemed like hours he sat there and attempted to produce the flame
he required. He managed a small spark once or twice, but other than that,
all he had achieved was a headache and a numb hand.
"Maybe Balkan was wrong about me. How can I be a powerful mage? I
can barely manage a small flame!"
In an attempt to return the feeling into his hand, he waved it about a bit to
try and get the blood flowing. When this didn't work he started clapping
his hands together and then clicking his fingers. Suddenly, his fingertips
were aflame. He was so shocked he started blowing on them and waving
his hand around even more to try and put them out. After a few seconds
he realised there was no pain coming from them but just at that moment,
he succeeded in putting them out anyway.
"Ok, that was weird. I finally managed to create a flame, and the first
thing I did was panic and put it out again. Nice going Marcus!" He took a
few deep breaths in attempt to calm his now racing heart and set about
making a flame again. Following logic, he decided that the way for him
to make a flame was to click his fingers together so, bracing his back
against the wall, he tried again. This time, however, nothing happened.
"Oh for goodness sake, this is ridiculous," he muttered to himself. He was
about to give up on trying to perform any kind of magic when he
remembered Balkan, or more importantly, his teaching.
The most important thing, he had always said, was to keep a clear mind.
To perform any sort of magic, a wizard must think the spell he wishes to
action but if his mind is too cluttered with other things it will never work.
With this in mind, Marcus let his body relax, brought his hands back
down into his lap and tried to empty his head of all unnecessary thoughts.
He sat for about fifteen minutes, with his eyes closed, almost meditating,
hoping that it would be enough for him to just produce this one small
flame.
Deciding that he was sufficiently clear-minded, he once again brought his
shackled hand out in front of him, and, thinking of nothing but flame,
clicked his fingers.
He almost screamed out with joy when his middle finger and thumb both
erupted into flame. He quickly fell silent, not knowing if there was a
guard outside the door, and settled for grinning to himself like a complete
lunatic.
He now found himself sitting in a dim pool of light that, although rather
weak, was more than sufficient for him to inspect the box. Using the hand
that wasn't currently engulfed in flame, he picked it up and looked it
over. Now that he could see it, he realised that what felt like plastic was
in fact a black lacquer box. It had no external markings, no lock and no
visible hinges. It was just a small, black, lacquer box. Satisfied that there
was no writing or anything on the outside he opened it up to see what was
inside. The first thing that met his eye was a folder up piece of yellowing
parchment, of the type used as writing paper in years gone by. He took it
out, put the box down, and using his now free hand, unfolded it.
He immediately recognised the neat, curly writing on the page and as he
read it, tears formed in the corner of his eyes.

My Dear Marcus,
Clearly if you are reading this, then the truth has been revealed to you,
and I am dead. I am truly sorry for my actions against you, but
please know that they were performed against my will. I am sure you
have many questions for me so I will try and provide you with as
many answers as I can.
It would not surprise me if you have started to doubt your powers.
Don't.
There are many things that we do not understand about the power that
flows inside us, but what we do know is that it needs time to grow.
Under normal circumstances, your power would have matured by now
but it was the prevention of exactly this that led the council to force me
into applying the barrier to you. I cannot tell you how long it will take
you to come into your full powers, mainly because I do not know how
powerful to become. However, understand this; with time your abilities
will increase until eventually, you will be able to cast spells with the
flick of a wrist. I cannot tell you what spells you will be able to perform
because there has not been a wizard recorded in the Guild with powers
like yours since the records began. I have no doubt, though, that you
will be a most powerful and impressive mage, as well as a most
talented and deadly Battle-mage.
As you should now know, you have a vital role to play, a role which
must start as soon as possible and will require the use of your abilities.
To this end, I have included a necklace in the box. I know you are very
image conscious so I hope it fits in with your style.

Marcus chuckled at this remark, remembering the times when Balkan had
chastised him for moaning that the practise outfits were just not 'his
style'.

It is, however, far more than just a fashion accessory. The innate power
of this necklace works as an accelerant for the development of your
own power. I do not know how effectively, or with what speed, it will
work on you, but you must wear it at all times! If nothing else, it will
focus your mind and make casting your spells that bit easier. It got
me where I am today, and I would not have made Master without it.

I wish I could tell you what Nathaniel has planned, but as you know,
the Masters do not trust me with anything. All I know is that if he is
allowed to see them through, it would spell out disaster for us all.

You must stop him Marcus. You must do whatever it takes to protect
the Guild from its ill-fated demise.

I am, and always will be, your proud mentor and friend,

Balkan.

Marcus smiled as he was flooded with fond memories of his mentor. How
could he possibly let him down now? Even if he couldn't find Tommy,
Balkan died so that he could perform some greater good and like Balkan
himself had said, he couldn't waste his death.
Folding the letter up, he placed it back in the box, which he put back in
his pocket, having removed the necklace. Balkan needn't have worried; it
was a very attractive piece of jewellery. It was just a simple, thin silver
chain with a silver flame hanging from it. He wondered if it was just a
coincidence that the main feature of the necklace that was supposed to
increase his powers, depicted the very thing it was going to allow him to
control. Deciding that it probably was, he slipped the chain over his head,
and immediately felt a series of tingles flow through his body like waves.
There were only three or four of them, but it was enough to make him
feel like he had just been tickled all over by a feather and, at the same
time, seemed to invigorate him somewhat. He decided that there was no
time like the present to start practising, so again, he cleared his mind and,
for the next few hours, set about testing out his powers.

After a while, Tommy started to feel like he was going to pass out. The
uncomfortable position in which he had been chained meant that he was
unable to sleep properly and he had no idea when the last time he ate or
drank anything was. All in all, he felt pretty shite but, just as he thought
he really was going to black out, the door opened again and in shuffled
another figure. He heard something heavy being put down on the ground
and someone scrambling about in the dark, as though they were looking
for something. Shortly after, the scrabbling stopped and the light turned
on again. This time, however, it was not a spotlight above his head, but a
halogen strip light that lit the whole room. It was nowhere near as bright
as the previous light, but still Tommy had to squint and give his eyes time
to acclimatise.
Slowly, the room came into focus and he was amazed to see that it almost
looked like a hospital room, except much more sparsely decorated. The
only furniture in the room was a small, single bed and a wooden chair,
but it had that same off-green colour that most people would associate
with a hospital. After taking all this in, Tommy looked at the figure who
had entered the room, and was very surprised to see a young woman of
about twenty five staring back at him with pure unadulterated pity in her
eyes.
Without speaking, she pushed a button on the wall next to the light-
switch, causing the chains holding Tommy up to slowly lower to the
floor. As soon as the chains were low enough, Tommy tried to regain
control of his extremities and succeeded only in collapsing. The young
woman didn't seem at all surprised by this and simply released him from
the chains and, with quite some effort on her part, pulled him up on to the
bed, whereupon she dragged over the basin she had brought in with her
and proceeded to clean Tommy off with some warm, slightly soapy
water.
It was at this point that Tommy remembered his current state of undress,
but all his weakened state allowed him to do to rectify this problem was
blush profusely, which, needless to say, wasn't very effective.
"I'm so sorry."
At first Tommy thought he had imagined it because she mumbled so
quietly.
"Pardon me?" he asked.
I'm sorry for what they have done to you," she said quietly, her eyes
flitting to the door every now and then. "I wish there was something I
could do to help you, but I can't. I have to just wash you and leave."
"Why? Why not just leave me chained up?"
"They like all their subjects to be clean and rested. You are to sleep here
until the morning."
"Wait, subjects? What does that mean?" he queried.
"I...I can't tell you that, they would kill me," she said.
"Kill you?" Tommy practically shrieked.
"Shhhh," she said, desperately trying to calm down a now rather panicked
Tommy. "I'm not supposed to be talking to you. If they over-hear I will
be in terrible trouble." She glanced over to a small grate in the wall and
obviously read from it something Tommy didn't see because she
hurriedly picked up the basin and made her way over to the door.
"I am so sorry," she said again, "for you...and for your friend."
"Wait, what do you..." called Tommy, but he was too late, she had
already gone. What did she mean by that? Had they got Marcus too?
Unfortunately his musings were cut short as the gas that was being
pumped into the room started to take effect. Within seconds, Tommy
went from feeling slightly groggy, to a complete, drug-induced sleep.


A bead of sweat formed on his brow and slowly trickled down his face,
but Marcus didn't notice. With his face screwed up in concentration, he
flicked his wrist and the ball of flame he had produced disappeared.
He had been sitting in his cell for a couple of hours now, practising the
production of flames. He had got to the stage where he could produce a
ball about the size of a golf ball and have it hover about his palm with
some ease. He had even worked out that if he just threw the ball, it would
go wherever he had aimed it and meet its target, but, if he maintained his
mental link with the ball, he was able to slightly alter its trajectory if his
initial aim hadn't been all that accurate. It wasn't like he could start
hurling fire-balls round corners, but if his aim was a little off, he could
basically nudge the ball this way or that to try and ensure it met its target.
Once he had perfected the golf-ball, Marcus had decided to push his
limits and see how big he could get the ball. By exerting all his energy on
it, he had managed to produce a ball about the size of a tennis ball, but he
couldn't do anything with it once he had created it. Having used that
much effort to make it, he couldn't even summon up the energy to throw
it at the far wall of his cell.
He decided that his best bet was to just stick to the golf balls and hope
that they would be enough to get him out of this place...wherever or
whatever this place was!
Now, the next problem was going to be escaping from his cell. He was
chained to the wall and, from what he could gather from the dim light of
the fireballs he had been creating, the door to his cell looked to be metal
and very secure.
Well obviously the first challenge was going to be removing the chains.
He had tried just yanking it out of the wall, but obviously that didn't
work. He had even tried using the corner of the box the necklace had
come in to try and unscrew the screws holding it in to the wall, but all this
did was break the corners of the box. After these two failures, and with no
other bright ideas coming to mind, he was starting to feel a little
despondent but then had a thought. Maybe he could use his flames to
weaken the metal. He had no idea if the flames he was producing were
going to be remotely hot enough, but it was worth a try.
He spread his wrists as far as the chains would allow and then produced
another fireball and then tilted his hand until it was positioned in such a
way that the fireball encompassed the point where the chain attaching his
to the wall met the short chain between his wrists. He just sat there and
watched as the fireball burned, hoping that it would be enough to at least
weaken the metal. After about ten minutes, he allowed the ball to
dissipate and inspected the damage. Although the chain was still intact,
he could see that it had degraded slightly, and that the point where the
two chains joined together was slightly misshapen. He tried pulling his
wrists apart with all his might but even though the chains did feel a little
weaker, they still held strong. Unperturbed, Marcus tried again, for
another ten minutes. This time, as soon as he allowed the ball to vanish,
he rested the chains on the floor, put his foot on the point where they met
and then pulled upwards with all his might.
To his shock and delight, the chain, which must have been quite old,
shattered and, although he still had the manacles round his wrists, he was
now free of his restrictions.
The next problem was the door. On closer inspection, it turned out that it
was metal but, apart from the large, quite old-fashioned hinges, there was
nothing else on it. There was no handle, no locking mechanism, there
wasn't even a peephole. Marcus decided that stealth would be his best
option. He figured that if he could burn off the hinges, the door should
easily push open and then he could sneak out, hopefully before anybody
noticed he was gone. Having decided on a course of action, he set about
putting it into motion. The only problem was, it was going to take some
time. After about twenty minutes, the first hinge showed no sign of
breaking. After half an hour it was glowing a little bit but the effort of
holding a fireball for so long, even just a small one, was starting to get to
Marcus. His eyes were aching and he was starting to feel a little light-
headed. Clearly, this approach was not going to work so, feeling
somewhat defeated, Marcus sat back down and pondered his situation.
Clearly he wasn't strong enough to use his magic to break out so he was
going to have to come up with something else.
"Ok," he said to himself, "what do I have at my disposal? A chain that is
still attached to the wall, although that can easily be changed, some piss-
weak magical powers and that's about it!" Suddenly Marcus had an idea.
If his magic couldn't get him out, maybe more of an old-fashioned
approach was necessary.

Twenty minutes later, he was pounding on the door with his first and
yelling out at the top of his voice.
"Guard, guard! Anybody, help me, you have to get me out of here."
"Quiet!" a gruff voice called out from the other side of the door.
"Please, you have to get me out of here, I have to get out."
"I said QUIET!" the voice shouted.
"No, you don't understand, I have to get out. I really, really, need to get
out of here."
"If you don't shut up, I am going to come in there and beat you so bad
that you really will have something to scream about." Marcus smiled
slightly to himself.
"No, please, don't. I will be quiet. I swear. But first I really need to get
out of here. Bad things will happen if I don't. It's really important."
"I warned you," the voice shouted. Before Marcus could shout anything
back, he heard a clunk and the door started to slowly creak open. Marcus
took a few steps back and continued to jabber on.
"Oh thank you, I knew you would understand. You see I have to get out."
"Oh yeah mate, I understand," the voice said, dripping with sarcasm. By
now, the owner of the gruff voice had hauled the door open, which turned
out to be about five inches thick, and was stepping into the room. Before
the guard even had a chance to open his mouth, Marcus' fist was
connecting with his nose. Marcus winced as he felt the chain, part of
which he had wrapped around his hand, break the guard's nose and
rupture one of his eye-sockets.
"Fuck," muttered Marcus, the chain around his fist having caused him
some pain as well. He didn't have time to dwell on this though, because
although the guard was in immense pain, he was starting to recover
slightly from his daze. Marcus spun the short length of chain he was
holding in his other hand, a couple of times and then brought it smashing
into the guard's head. The man was dead before he even had a chance to
cry out and Marcus stood, dazed at what he had done, while his body
slumped to the floor. Marcus stared at the body of the man he had just
killed for a few seconds and then shook himself out of his trance. Now
was not the time to delay. He dragged the body further into the room and
then rushed out into the corridor. He put his shoulder to the door, heaving
it closed and then sliding the bolt across so that if anybody walked past
the door, they wouldn't hopefully not realise that he had escaped.
Marcus was horrified by what he had just done, but that man was his
captor and anyway, there was nothing he could do about it now. If
Marcus had known that that mans death was to be the first of many at his
hands, he probably would have fallen down and wept. Luckily,
premonition was not one of his skills, so he ran. He didn't know where he
was going, but he ran anyway. After a short while, he came to a point
where he had two options, left or right. He took a second to decide which
was to go and as he was about to set off to the right, he heard a gasp
behind him and suddenly he felt himself being dragged into a room to his
left.
The room was completely dark and the door had been closed behind him
so he could not see where he was, or, more importantly, who was there
with him.
"Do not be afraid," said a quiet female voice.
"Who's there?"
"A friend, of sorts," was the only reply that came.
"What do you want?" asked Marcus.
"Only to help you. In a second I am going to turn the light on so you
might want to close your eyes for a second. They are rather bright in
here." Marcus did not trust this woman so refrained from closing his eyes,
and then wished he had. She wasn't lying when she said they were bright.
"I did warn you," said the voice.
As Marcus slowly opened his eyes, having clamped them shut, he started
to pick out the outline of a young woman, possibly about 24 he thought.
"Why do you want to help me?"
"Because what they are doing is wrong."
"What are they doing?" he asked.
"Experimenting. So many horrible experiments. You must get out of here
and you must take him with you." Suddenly Marcus was very interested
in what she had to say.
"Who, I must get who out?"
"The other man they brought in with you. He is to be one of their
subjects."
"And what about me. Why am I here?"
"I don't know, I wasn't told. The mages don't tell us anything."
"The mages? So this is a guild building?"
"A what building?" she asked, a very confused look on her face.
'Ok,' Marcus thought, 'So if this place is nothing to do with the guild,
what the hell is it?'
"Erm, nothing. So who runs this facility then?" asked Marcus, quickly
changing the subject.
"Nobody knows his name, we don't even know what he looks like, All I
know is that there are a lot of guards and that if anybody sets foot on the
seventh floor there is hell to pay."
"What's on the seventh floor?" asked Marcus.
"That's where the research labs are. None of the staff are allowed up
there. Only the researchers are allowed up there."
"You mentioned the other man they brought in. Where is he?"
"His cell is just down the hall," she said. She rummaged around in her
pocket and took out a key-card. "Take this. Go down the hall on the right
about a hundred meters. He is in cell 12b and there will be two guards
outside. Once you have him, come back in this direction and just keep
going. After a few hundred meters there is a stairwell. Go down, all the
way down. At the bottom is a door, this key will open it."
"Why are you doing this for me?"
"So that..." her voice caught in her throat and she looked like she was
about to cry. "So that the screaming stops. We might not be allowed to go
up to the seventh floors, but the screaming is so loud that you can hear it
from the fifth. I don't know what they are doing up there but it has to
stop. You are the first one that has ever managed to break out of his cell.
You have to stop them! You have to!"
"I can't, not today. But I will, I promise," Marcus said, and he meant it.
Once he was stronger he would come back and he would find out what
they were doing. "If they find out I have helped you, what will happen?"
"They will kill me."
Marcus was shocked, not only that such a severe punishment could be
enforced, but that she was prepared to help him in spite of it.
"Come with me. I can take you with me."
"No."
"Why not?" asked Marcus.
"Because my brother is one of their so called subjects and he had been in
a coma for the past month. I will not leave here without him."
"I will come back and I promise, if you are still here, I will do all in my
power to help you," said Marcus, not realising quite how powerful he
would be he next time they met. "I am sorry, but I can't leave any
suspicion with you."
"Do you what you must."
Before he could change his mind, Marcus struck her across the face, hard
enough to leave a bruise and cause her nose to bleed. She fell to the floor,
but he was quickly by her side, helping her into a chair.
"They can't kill you if I attacked you, left you unconscious and stole your
card. That is what happened here, ok?"
"I hope you are right," she replied. "Now go before someone sees you or
realises you are missing. Find your friend and get out of here. Be careful,
there are patrols of guards all around the inside and the outside of this
complex but we aren't far from Glasgow so you should be ok."
"Ok, thank...wait, what did you just say?"
"There will be patrols...of guards," she replied, slightly perplexed.
"No, not that, the other thing...we are in Scotland?"
"Well, yes. Didn't you know that?"
"No, I bloody well didn't! A few hours ago I was in my apartment in
London!" he shouted.
"Shh, please quiet down."
"Bollocks! This just keeps getting better and better," fumed Marcus. He
took a few deep breaths to try and calm himself and then turned back to
the woman, who was nursing her cheek.
"Thank you for your help. I am truly sorry for what I had to do to you but
I promise, I will come back to this place and stop them." She simply
nodded so he made his way over to the door, checked the corridor was
clear and then headed off in the direction that she had indicated. After
about 50 meters there was a bend in the corridor. He looked around the
corner and there, just like she had said, was a cell with two guards
standing outside the door. Collecting his thoughts he threw two fireballs
in their direction, hitting one guard in the face the other in the shoulder.
By the time they had recovered from the shock, he was almost upon
them, running as fast as he could and swinging the length of chain at his
side. The first guard, who had been hit in the face by the fireball, was
then hit on the hip, which broke from the chain's impact. He fell to the
ground, screaming in pain, but Marcus was too busy dealing with the
second guard to shut him up. The guard swung his baton at Marcus, who
dodged out of the way and punched him in the stomach. He doubled over
in pain but managed to recover before Marcus could strike him again.
They stood, facing each other, both ready to pounce on the other in a
seconds notice.
"Get out of my way and you won't get hurt," said Marcus.
"Ha, never going to happen," laughed the guard. "Why are you so
interested in what's in this room anyway?"
"Because you have a friend of mine," growled Marcus.
"Oh, I see, you are one of them queer types aren't you?" said the guard,
the derision in his voice coming through loud and clear. "What makes a
little fag like you think that you can beat a trained killer like me?"
Marcus' blood boiled. He had never been able to keep his cool when
homophobes made their opinions known, and this time was no different.
"I am no ordinary little 'fag'," he spat, his voice becoming steely, his
anger elevated to such a stage that externally he seemed completely calm,
but inside he was screaming. "I could do things to you that would make
you wish you had never been born." Suddenly the smug look on the
guards face disappeared. "I could cause you such pain that being skinned
alive would seem like a respite." He didn't know it, but Marcus was
pushing phenomenal amounts of energy into the chains, to the extent that
they both started glowing bright orange within seconds. Not only this, but
the guard had noticed other changes. I am sure you have heard the phrase
'to see red' before, but for Marcus, this took on a whole new meaning.
Although his vision didn't change, the guard watched as his irises
appeared to burst into flames, which then spread out until they
encompassed his entire eyes. Not only that but, as he had been speaking,
his voice was slowly getting lower and lower until it was a great,
booming, bass.
"I...you...what...are you?" stuttered the guard.
"I am what the demons in your worst nightmare fear. I am what makes
the things that go bump in the night quiver in terror," boomed Marcus,
completely unaware of the changes that his voice and eyes had
undergone. He took a step closer to the guard who, in his terror, was
rooted to the spot. Marcus struck him across the face, knocking him out
instantly.

He stood over the bodies of the two unconscious men (the first guard
having passed out from the pain in his hip) and took a second to calm
himself. He felt a strange sensation in his eyes but ignored it, not realising
that it was the essence of his power withdrawing from his eyes. He took
three deep breaths and then opened to door to the cell. He walked into the
room and his heart leapt at what he saw, causing him to drop the chains to
the ground. There, lying on the bed, fast asleep and as gorgeous as ever in
his nakedness, was Tommy. There where some welts on his wrists,
obviously from some shackles or a rope, but other than that he appeared
unharmed. He moved over to the bed and gently shook Tommy, hoping to
wake him, but to no avail. He panicked a little but then realised that the
slightly gassy smell in the air must be what was keeping him asleep.
Despite the danger they were in, Marcus could not help the twitch in his
groin upon seeing his love lying naked on the bed. He ignored it,
however, and instead picked Tommy up in a fire-mans lift. He felt the
heat of his lover's body, the beating of his heart against his back and,
turning his head slightly, he deeply inhaled the scent of his groin, which
was currently resting on his shoulder. His erection stirred once again, but
there was no time for that, so, with his hands firmly on Tommy's
buttocks to hold him in place, Marcus set of at a jog, back in the direction
he had come from.
After a few moments, Tommy began to stir, the effects of the gas wearing
off.
"Wha...where...Marcus?" he asked, still a little groggy.
"Tommy!" Marcus was elated and slapped Tommy's ass a couple of
times to try and bring him fully to his senses. "Baby, I am so glad you are
ok."
"Ow, well I was before you started assaulting my ass." They both starting
giggling like little children but Marcus suddenly fell silent and stopped in
his tracks.
"What is it?" asked Tommy, trying to look around behind him, "and will
you please put me down!"
"Shh, go limp, like you are still unconscious," whispered Marcus.
Without questions, Tommy let his body go limp again and closed his
eyes. He didn't know it, but they had just come across another guard. He
hadn't noticed them yet as he had his back turned to them but he was only
about 20 meters away.
"Tommy," Marcus whispered, "when I say so, I want you to kick your leg
out directly behind you as hard as you can, ok?" Marcus jumped slightly
as Tommy pinched his ass to show that he understood.
"Stop that," giggled Marcus. He quickly stifled his giggling and then set
off in a sprint, straight at the guard. "Oi, you!" he called.
The guard turned round in surprise and was quickly met by a fireball in
the chest. Slightly shocked, he pulled out his baton and started towards
the two men. When he was only about two meters away and getting ready
to make a swipe at them, Marcus shouted 'now' and Tommy kicked out.
It was timed perfectly. As Tommy's foot came up, it connected directly
with the guards face, breaking his nose and causing him to stumble back
in shock at being kicked in the face by an unconscious man. Marcus
continued forward and kneed him in the groin, quickly dropping the man
to the ground. He ran on a few more meters, put Tommy down, and
together they ran on until they saw the stairwell that the woman had told
Marcus about.
Marcus noticed that Tommy was lagging behind a bit and turned round to
ask what was wrong.
"Well, in case it had escaped your attention, I am naked."
"Yes, I was rather enjoying the view actually," said Marcus, causing
Tommy to blush a little.
"Yes well that's as maybe, but my cock is bouncing around all over the
place and its making it a little difficult to run as fast as I would like to
be!"
"Hmm, I hadn't thought of that," mused Marcus. "Here, take my
trousers," he said, shucking his shoes and taking off his trousers, which
Tommy gratefully accepted, slipping them on a quickly as he could.
Somehow Marcus thought that Tommy looked even sexier wearing his
trousers than he did when he was completely naked. They were slightly
big on Tommy, so they sat quite low on his hips, leaving his pleasure trail
and the top of his pubic hair clearly visible.
"What?" asked Tommy, noticing Marcus' staring.
"Oh nothing," he replied, "I was just thinking how god damn sexy you
look and that if we weren't in so much danger, I would probably rip those
trousers off you right now and fuck you silly."
"Maybe later," said Tommy, smirking. He slowly walked over to Marcus,
gave him a quick peck on the lips and, just to tease him that bit more,
gave his erection a quick squeeze, causing Marcus to moan involuntarily.
He then winked, and started jogging towards the door to the stairwell.
"Hey," called Marcus, "that is so unfair, you can't leave it there!"
Tommy simply laughed in answer so Marcus set off jogging after him.
Once they reached the door, they took a second to catch their breath and
take stock of the situation.
"Right," said Marcus, "all we have to do now, is go through this door,
down the stairs and out the door at the bottom and we are home
free...well, we are actually in Scotland so we won't quite be home, but
close enough."
"Scotland? How the hell did we get up here?"
"No idea, I woke up chained to a wall in a cell, but the woman who
helped me once I got out, she said that we are near Glasgow."
"Wait, a woman helped you? What did she look like?" asked Tommy.
"Oh, um, about 24 or 25, kinda short, slim, quite pretty. Why?"
"She was the one that took me out of my chains and cleaned me up. She
seemed genuinely upset by what was happening to me."
"She was. That's why she gave me the key-card to the door when I broke
out of my cell," replied Marcus.
"How did you get out of your cell by the way?" asked Tommy.
"Oh, er, I tricked the guard into coming into my cell and then knocked
him out and used his keys to undo my chains," Marcus half-lied. As much
as he wanted to tell Tommy about his magic, he wasn't sure now was the
time or the place.
"Ah, good thinking," said Tommy, impressed.
"Thanks," sighed Marcus, happy that Tommy had accepted his story.
"Anyway, come on, lets go." Just as Marcus was reaching for the door
handle, Tommy noticed a sign above the door.
"WAIT!" he shouted, but it was too late, Marcus had opened the door and
the alarm had been set of.
"Shit!" exclaimed Marcus. "Come on, leg it!"
The two men ran through the door and started making their way down the
stairs. Once they had gone down two of the three flights they needed to,
they started to hear shouting behind them. Obviously the guard they had
laid low had recovered and he was telling the other guards where to go.
"Keep going," shouted Marcus. They made it down to the bottom of the
stairs, but suddenly the door to the outside of the complex opened and in
rushed three guards. Tommy and Marcus stopped short and tried to turn
around and go back up the stairs, but they were trapped from that
direction by four further guards.
"We can do this the easy way or the hard way," called one of the guards,
"it makes no difference to us." Marcus looked over to Tommy, who
nodded almost imperceptibly. They both rushed forward, picking out a
guard each and swinging. Marcus' fist hit his target or the right cheek
causing him to stumble backwards. Tommy wasn't so lucky. As Marcus
kept attacking his guard, Tommy's had dodged his fist and now struck
him over the head with his baton, hard. For the third time in two days,
Tommy was out cold and he dropped to the floor.
"TOMMY!" shouted Marcus, rushing to his side as he noticed his body
drop.
"Aw, what are you going to do now your little lover boy is out of
commission?" laughed one of the guards. All six of the guards
surrounded him as he knelt by Tommy, stroking his cheek, trying to wipe
away the blood that was coming from the cut in his head.
As the guards all continued to laugh, something inside Marcus snapped,
and if he had really been paying attention, he would have felt the flame
necklace grow hot.
He stood up over Tommy's body, his face showing no emotion at all.
None of the guards reacted, they just kept laughing, except one, whose
laughter faltered and he looked around at his comrades nervously.
"Your friend is right to be nervous," said Marcus, his voice even and as
emotionless as his face.
"Oh yes, and why is that," asked the guard who had spoken before.
"Like I said to one of the other guards earlier, before I knocked him out
cold, I am no ordinary man." As Marcus said this, he brought his arms
out in front of him, and simultaneously, his eyes turned once more to
flames and a ball of flame, this time the size of a tennis ball, appeared
over each palm. "You see, there is more to me than meets the eye. There
is a power within me that you cannot imagine and once unleashed, I will
use it to destroy you." Marcus didn't realise it, but all the time he was
speaking, he had started floating off the floor, until he was hovering about
two feet in the air. The guards were petrified and not one of them had
moved a muscle.
"NOBODY TOUCHES MY LOVE AND LIVES TO TELL OF IT!"
shouted Marcus, throwing both fireballs at the man who had rendered
Tommy unconscious. Immediately his clothes were ablaze and he started
screaming and rolling around on the floor in attempt to put the flames out.
This commotion suddenly shook the other guards out of their trance and
they all rushed at Marcus simultaneously. He produced two more fireballs
and sent them flying at the faces of two further guards, the power of them
dropping the men to the floor, their faces burnt and disfigured. This left
only three guards active. Once swung his baton at Marcus, but he caught
it in mid air and, with a strength he didn't know he possessed, he used it
to throw the man against the wall. The two remaining guards, the one
who had originally spoken and the nervous one, faltered in their charge
and hung back, warily watching Marcus.

Tommy blearily opened his eyes, the pain in his head causing him to
wince. He looked around him and saw four guards, in varying degrees of
pain, lying on the floor, groaning. He then looked up and saw
Marcus...no, it couldn't be Marcus. He was floating off the floor and his
eyes were glowing like flames. Shocked, he watched as this entity that
looked like Marcus rushed forward and grabbed one of the guards
standing in front of him by the throat and lifted him up off the floor. The
man screamed out in pain as the entity squeezed the man's throat with its
hand. There was a sickening snap and the man's screaming was silenced
and his body went limp. The entity dropped the body, and Tommy saw
severe burn marks all around his neck.
Next the fiery entity turned its attention to the final guards and Tommy
heard it say in a booming, almost demonic voice:

"Go, tell your masters I have awoken, and I will be back for them."

With that the guard fled as quickly as his jellied knees would take him,
screaming like a little girl as he went.
The entity then turned and noticed that Tommy was awake, and Tommy
was shocked to see it smile.
"Do not be afraid," it said, in a voice that was as soft as velvet, "I will not
harm you. I am part of the one you love, and who loves you."
"Who...who are you?" stuttered Tommy.
"I am Marcus. I am The Elemental."

**********************************************************

Well, thats the end of chapter two. I hope you enjoyed it. Please send any
feedback to the_elemental909@hotmail.co.uk
I would love to hear your thoughts or criticisms on the story.