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The Impossible	By : sandyl666 Category: S through Z > The Saga of Darren Shan Views: 3621 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: The Saga of Darren Shan belongs to Darren Shan. I am not making any money out of writing this piece of fiction.

Chapter List
- 6
- 7
- 8
Disclaimer: I don't own the Darren Shan Saga/Cirque Du Freak. Why? Because... Well... I like dragons. Very much. So I would have let the Lord of the Shadows come into existence, just so I could throw some dragons into the plot.
A/N: This chapter contains pretty graphic descriptions of rape. Well, you might not find it as graphic. I know I didn't, having had a limited basis to write from.
But if you find it bad, I guess you can just skip over it. I didn't put any warnings, but you can kinda tell when it's coming.

Chapter 7: Abduction
I sat up abruptly, squeaking and gasping as I jolted awake. A hand clamped down over my mouth and I lashed out wildly.
"Darren, it's okay," Harkat shushed me soothingly. I stopped thrashing wildly and he let me go.
I sighed and wiped the sweat from my brow.
"Here," he handed me a mug of water and I drunk deeply from it. "Thanks," I smiled weakly at him. He looked at me in concern.
"Are you alright?" he asked me worriedly. I smiled again at him reassuringly and continued sipping lightly from the mug. We were camping out. The sun was still nowhere in sight, and the sky was a vast, dark blanket, dotted with tiny lights and one crescent moon.
I studied the Little Person out of the corner of my eye. He resembled Frankenstein, being stitched together roughly, with dead, grey skin, bright green eyes and no hair whatsoever. Harkat was actually a member of resurrected dead. A zombie. The only difference being that he didn't go around eating brains. I suppose you could call him ugly, but I was extremely fond of the Little Person. He was a ridiculously loyal companion.
About two months ago, Mr Tiny, an extremely powerful being, transported Harkat and I to a barren, monster-infested land that we guessed was the future, to find out the truth about Harkat's identity.
Harkat used to be a vampire called Kurda Smahlt (If you rearranged his name, it spelt Harkat Mulds) Kurda had betrayed the vampire clan in a bid to prevent war with our blood cousins, the purple-skinned vampaneze. To make up for his sins, he'd agreed to become Harkat Mulds and travel back to the past to be my guardian.
I finished off my mug of water, and placed it on the ground. Harkat and I were currently travelling around without a heading. Harkat wanted to get back to Vampire Mountain, but I'd been putting it off. I was too busy trying to get my head straight.
I felt like I'd had too much information to process in the last six months. Meeting Evanna and Vancha, The Purge, Steve's return, falling in love with him. Not to mention Mr Crepsley's death and Steve's revelation. Then there was the fact that Harkat was Kurda. It amazed me that I wasn't a depressed puddle of dark goo on the ground. Speaking of which, I still couldn't cry and grieve for Mr Crepsley. It was like an itch I just couldn't scratch. My eyes felt unbearably dry.
The crimson wave continued to visit me every month, bringing with it mood swings and more depression. Harkat had asked me a lot of questions about that since discovering he was Kurda. Vampires weren't meant to be fertile, but the blood was an indicator that I was, he argued.
And I would respond with an "I'm not," and inform him that if I was, I would've been impregnated by Steve. And okay, we only did it twice, but it's not like we used any contraceptives at all. And the timing was right.
Then Harkat had to burst my bubble by saying that Steve was a half-vampaneze. He probably couldn't have kids either. I had glared at Harkat, and made him drop the whole conversation. I didn't really want to know if I could have kids. I had already accepted the fact that I couldn't years ago. It was bad enough trying to make sense of the complications that plagued my life, much less add to it.
Following that line of thought, I realised something. I rustled through my backpack and cursed. "I've run out of feminine hygiene products," I informed my travelling partner.
"Why do you need it?" he asked, confused. "Is it here already?"
"No, but it should be coming in a week or so... I don't like bring unprepared. We have enough dirty clothes as it is. Well... I do." Harkat only wore his blue robes, and they hardly got dirty for some reason.
"We'll find a town tomorrow and get... you some,"
"It's okay. I need a walk anyway," I grabbed a sweater and put it on.
"You're going now?" he asked.
"Yeah. Can't go back to sleep anyway," I shrugged. I could never go back to sleep after the nightmares. They were too vivid, too frightening. "I'll be right back. I think the closest town was a few miles away."
"I'll come with you," he said, getting to his feet and pulling aside his dark robes so that he doesn't step and trip on them.
"No, it's alright. Stay," I said. "Keep the fire going and make sure no one steals our stuff. I'll be about an hour or so."
He hesitated. "Are you sure? It's dangerous, travelling by yourself at this... time of night,"
"I'll be fine," I laughed. "What human could hurt me?"
"I wasn't talking about humans,"
"You're getting paranoid in your old age, Harkat. I'll be fine," I told him, rolling my eyes. He hovered for a while more, hesitating, then saw the logic in my choice and let me go. No way was I lugging everything over to the closest town and the lugging it all the way back. I reassured him that I'd be safe and finally he let me go.
Unfortunately, on the way there I wished I'd asked Harkat to come with me anyway. He was a pretty good navigator. I wasn't. I forgot which one was the evening star, so I had to double back several times. It didn't help that my mind kept wandering to my many troubles. Primarily, my complete inability to cry and grieve.
And I constantly felt eyes on my back. I kept turning around to find no one there. I even went over to a suspicious looking bush and poked it with a long stick, only to feel completely stupid when nothing happened. I mean, I would've heard a heartbeat if there was someone there.
I continued on the way, writing my suspicions off as paranoia.
It was a little less than an hour before I got to the town. Harkat knew of my faulty sense of direction, so he probably wouldn't worry... yet.
I went into a twenty-four hour department store, got my items, and left hastily. I was still a police suspect, and though we were quite a distance away from the city in which I was arrested, you never knew who knew.
My fingers curled around the plastic bag handles, twirling and fiddling with it uneasily. The roads were relatively empty, though there were several passer-bys - Mostly drunks - who passed me by, unconcerned.
The sound of glass splintering into a million pieces rang out through the air and I jumped. I looked around nervously, scanning the area, only to find nothing. Why did I feel so wary? It was like something was going to happen. Something major.
My precious toiletries were nearly dropped as realisation dawned. Follow your heart, Mr Tiny had said. I walked on stiffly, automatically, my whole body tensed for an ambush by Steve.
I shook my head back and forth, arguing with myself that Vancha wasn't even here. This couldn't be the predicted final encounter, could it?
Staring at the floor intently, I registered nothing as my mind whirled, trying to process this new information. And I bumped into someone.
I squeaked and fell, caught by surprise.
"Sorry," the person I'd collided with muttered, offering a hand to help me up.
"It's okay, it's my fault. I wasn't paying attention," I said, taking the proffered hand. I stood up and looked into the face of the person I'd bumped into and gasped.
The light brown hair, blue eyes and strangely straight nose. He was much older and taller. Of course. About fifteen years had passed since I last saw him. Andy. My younger brother. My only brother. The only person other than Steve who I'd constantly wondered was okay.
My mouth opened and closed several times, like a fish. If my mind was whirling earlier, it was on the verge of overload now. I wondered if maybe steam was escaping from my ears. God that would've been embarassing.
He looked at me weirdly. "Are you okay?" he asked. He didn't recognise me. Which I found weird, considering that I recognised him, and he'd changed - aged - more than I did.
"Uh..." I stammered. "O-Of course! Yeah, I'm f-fine!" I said, in a voice much louder than necessary.
"Ooookay..." he said, his expression telling me that he thought I was some crazy person. Oh well. Better than your long-dead, barely aging sister, right? "Then... See ya." He said, and left.
I stared after him. Then, on a desperate, non-sensical whim, decided to follow him, my bag of shopping left where I dropped it, neglected and forgotten. Harkat would just have to wait - and worry - a little longer. Something seemed to be familiar, yet fishy about this, but I didn't care.
Andy seemed to be twisting and turning around the town with no destination in mind. I followed him, hiding pathetically behind lamp posts, trash cans, and other various things lying around.
Several times he turned around and I'd hide, my heart pounding as he scanned the darkness for something. I wondered what he was up to. Was he doing something shady? Did mom and dad know?
Then he would turn away and continue going around the town, making unnecessary turns and going in circles. He knew someone was following him. I dropped back even more.
It was about ten minutes later that he disappeared into an alley. I hurried after him, intent on not losing him.
Entering the dark alley, I stared at a dead end. No one was there in the dark. I checked behind and inside the bins. No one. I even tried pulling each door in that alley. None budged.
"...Huh," I said out loud to myself, feeling stupid. Then I sighed, and turned around to leave. Someone stepped into the entrance of the alley, blocking out the street lights and casting a long shadow that reached my feet. I stared at the gold and silver hooks he had instead of hands.
My heart pounded, but I wasn't very surprised. The paranoia I'd been experiencing had been preparing me for this.
"R.V." I said, nodding at him, acknowledging his presence. He grinned at me madly. Then another figure stepped out of the street. A large man with half of his face gone. Morgan James. I took a step back, knowing that there was no where for me to run.
They were joined by a slim, tall, unhappy-looking man - Gannen Harst - and a smirking Lord of the Vampaneze.
"Gannen. Steve," I greeted them.
"She doesn't seem surprised to see us," Steve stage-whispered to Gannen. Gannen didn't reply.
"An ambush, huh?" I asked. I was completely outnumbered. My hand twitched uselessly at my side as I wondered if I could reach down and grab the knife I'd strapped to my calf quickly enough to fling it at Steve. But Gannen must have read my mind, as he quickly stepped in front of Steve.
"Yup," Steve said merrily. "And we couldn't have done it without our most important ally. Isn't that right, Andy?"
I heard a noise behind me and turned my head to see my younger brother holding an arrow gun aimed at my heart. Behind him was an open door. One I'd tried and refused to open for me.
"You're on their side, Andy?" I asked sadly.
"Better theirs than yours, you traitor," he spat at me. I was slightly taken aback by his response.
"What have you told him?" I asked Steve quietly.
"Nothing. Except the truth. That you disregarded your family and even set a spider on your best friend, just do you could become a vampire," Steve said innocently.
I glared at him, then turned back to my brother. "Andy. That... man is a liar," I had trouble thinking of a word to describe Steve. I took a step forward towards him. "You can't seriously believe-"
"Stay back!" he warned, waving the arrow gun at me. I backed away slightly, holding my arms up in a gesture of peace. I gazed at Andy, catching his eye, trying to communicate telepathically like we'd done so often when we were young.
For about a minute, nobody moved. A tense atmosphere settled over us and we watched and waited to see who would move first.
Then Steve got tired of waiting.
"R.V. James," He nodded towards me. The vampet and half-vampaneze advanced on me slowly. I backed away, but heard a threatening click behind me as Andy readied the arrow gun. Cursing under my breath, I stopped backing away. R.V. and Morgan James continued edging towards me.
I waited until they were close enough, then reached down, grabbed my knives, and dodged them both, ducking through the small space between them. Andy fired an arrow at me, shocked into action by my sudden move. The luck of the vampires was with me, as the arrow missed me and struck Morgan James in the arm instead. He cried out and dropped the rifle he was holding.
I went straight for Steve, but Gannen was faster than me. He blocked my strike with knives of his own. I tried going for a kick, but with Steve had caught on as to my next move. He grabbed my leg mid-air and I lost balance. I crashed into the floor, head-first.
There was a cry of pain that sounded strangely like my own, and stars exploded into view before my eyes.

I sighed in bliss. Everything was so soft and smooth. A liquid-like fabric caressed my skin, bunching around me. I ran a hand over the softness, marveling at its perfection. Then I shifted, only to be surprised into full consciousness by the unmistakable clanging sound of metal hitting against metal and the slightest of whispers from the fabric.
I opened my eyes and found my vision assaulted with red and black. I groaned. The back of my head hurt. What happened? Where was I now?
Propping myself up with my left arm, I lifted my right arm to massage my aching temples, only to find that my right wrist had been chained to something.
I tugged on the chain hard, meaning to break it. It refused to budge. As I was struggling against it, the smooth silk blanket covering my body fell, and I found myself completely nude, except for the metal cross hanging from my neck. I squeaked in terror and grabbed the sheets, holding them to my chest with one hand.
"Wha-" I started to say, then realized that I was in an open coffin. I gaped at it. Luxurious silk decorated it's interior, which matched the sheets I was clutching to my chest.
I looked around the room as I tried to register where exactly I was. It was a plain room, with walls painted black. There was a desk to the side, and some shelves, but that was about it for furniture. Lit candles were placed in various locations around the room. There were two doors, both painted black as well. No windows.
I lifted a hand to my head to run a hand over the source of my pain, and the chain bound to my wrist entered my line of vision. I traced it to it's other end. It was linked to a metal ring on the outside of the coffin. I got out of the coffin, nearly ending up in a heap on the floor. I tried to ignore the fact that I was stark naked and cold, and pulled against the chain in an attempt to break it, to no avail.
"What the hell is this made of?" I said out loud, tugging against the chain, using all of my enhanced vampire strength.
"Something you can't break," said a familiar voice behind me. In my shocked desperation, I didn't even hear the footsteps approaching the room. Steve Leopard entered the room, shutting the door behind him quietly. He grinned at me lecherously, eyeing my behind.
I quickly whirled around, removing my asset from his view, but that was no better. I reached for the sheets inside the coffin to cover myself with them. A hand seized my left wrist, stopping me. He pinned me to the side of the coffin, his front making contact with my back, both my wrists held tightly by him so I couldn't swat him away. I sucked in a surprised breath as something hard and hot prodded my butt.
He lowered his head and licked the side of my neck. His tongue slid down my neck and travelled to my right shoulder slowly.
"Steve... Stop," I said, trying not to acknowledge the shiver of pleasure running down my spine. I hated this guy. He killed Mr Crepsley, my beloved mentor. Who I still had yet to shed a tear for.
"Or what?" he asked teasingly, kissing and sucking me lightly on the shoulder.
"Or... Or... I'll hit you," I said lamely. He chuckled.
"Fine," he said, and released me. I turned, shocked that he'd been so cooperative and curious as to what expression he would be wearing. Then I saw him removing his clothes.
I trembled. I could guess what was coming next.
"Get in," he commanded me, as soon as all his clothes were removed. I just stared at him. Like me, the only thing left was a cross hanging from his neck. I was curious as to why he still wore that thing - to annoy me? - but at the moment there were more important things on my mind.
"Or what?" I echoed his earlier response.
His eyes narrowed. "Or I'll make you," I stared at him disbelievingly. Then, before I could realise what was happening, he'd lifted me and threw me into the coffin. I was so shocked, I didn't even fight back. I just released a high-pitched, damsel-y scream that surprised even me.
"On your stomach," he told me. I glared at him. If he was going to force me anyway, why make things easy for him? I gathered what little courage was left in me and did nothing. I willed my body to stop shaking. It didn't listen to me. Steve sighed in mock frustration. "So you're going to be difficult, huh?"
He climbed into the coffin. I sat up and backed to the front of the casket, my back resting against one side of the coffin and my butt on the pillow. He crawled forward, advancing on me. Then he reached out, snatched my free wrist, and held it to the side of the coffin. I hissed, protesting. He ignored me.
He tutted at my tightly clenched thighs.
"Are you going to make me force you to open your legs too?" he sighed again in mock weariness. I didn't respond, but glared at him in what I hoped was a heated manner.
He flicked his tongue against my breasts. I did my best not to reveal the instant reaction of my body to his touch. Then his tongue protruded out of his mouth and he started licking and sucking my nipples until they were as hard as his rod. He laid a trail of butterfly kisses all the way down to my patch of pubic hair. I still didn't open up.
"I see. So it has to be the hard way," With one hand, he pried a small space in between my limbs. It was small, but enough to reveal my already pretty wet womanhood.
He pressed a single finger on my vagina, dipping it in, teasing me. I felt all the fight leave me, and my thighs went slack. I tried to will my body otherwise, but it was a futile effort.
He continued teasing me, pushing his finger in shallowly then removing it again. I kept my breathing steady, my heart rate had definitely increased.
Sensing my excitement, he thrust his whole finger in. I gasped, then quickly bit my lip before my mouth could further betray me.
I hate him. I chanted to myself, resisting the sensations that were starting to plague my body. I hate him, I hate him, I hate him.
Watching me carefully, Steve removed the finger and sucked on it. "Delicious," he commented. I snarled at him, an animalistic, beastly sound. He continued beaming. "I think I'd like to taste more."
He lowered his head to the juncture between my legs and sucked hard. My shackles jingled, and a moan escaped from my throat. I struggled against my restraints.
He continued his ministrations on my most private place, using his tongue to thrust in, as well as licking my sensitive areas. That was bad enough. When he found the sensitive little pearl hidden beneath the hood of my vagina and sucked it hard, I melted into a puddle of goo. Figuratively, of course.
Seeing his chance, Steve released my wrist, reached down and grabbed my ankles. He pulled me to the other end of the coffin, forcing me to lie down, then flipped me over. It happened so fast I was still trying to rid myself of the haze of pleasure that'd settled over me when he positioned himself to my entrance.
Then, without warning, he entered me from behind. I gasped. I was expecting this, but that didn't make it any less painful.
"Take it out!" I shouted at him.
"No," He responded, then proceeded to pound into me mercilessly. I screamed. I was no virgin, but it really hurt. The fact that he had vampaneze-ic speed didn't help.
I never understood what fucking meant. Was it really the act of simply doing it without any feelings? Was it possible? I didn't understand how it could be done. Love seemed so integral to sex to me. Until it happened to me.
He had no consideration for me whatsoever. I was simply a toy. Something to satisfy his needs. He paid no attention to my screams of protest and pain. In fact, I think he may have liked my screaming. I clenched my teeth together and shut my mouth, in an attempt to spite him. However, it wasn't more than two seconds later that I started whimpering involuntarily.
It's true that I like my sex with a bit of force, but this was just plain agony. This definitely did not excite me.
Tears streamed out of my eyes as he continued thrusting into me. I tried to shift myself so it wouldn't hurt so much. It didn't work.
I simply settled for praying that he would finish quickly. That didn't work very well either.
He kept thrusting, going impossibly deeper and deeper. I clenched the pillow, my nails making tear marks in the delicate silk.
It was ages until he came inside me, the familiar spurting of hot liquid brought warmth and relief to me. It was finally over. I let out a hoarse sigh of relief. My throat hurt from all the crying I'd done.
He curved his body against my back, curling over me possessively.
"Did you think we were finished?" he whispered, his face was right beside mine. I cringed away from him. His replying chuckles held an evil undertone. I willed my body to move away, but it hurt too much.
He ran a hand up my sweaty spine, and I felt the tingling sensation of goosebumps appearing all over my body. "Because I can promise you, I'm far from being done."
I started shaking again, an involuntary response by my body from the earlier trauma. Stop shaking, you stupid Vampire Prince. I chastised myself.
I took a shaky breath, then attempted elbowing him in the ribs, but he was ready for it. He caught it and held my other hand as well, in case I tried to attack him with it. We ended up wrestling in that tight space. But I was at a disadvantage, being shackled and slightly weaker. And it was difficult to think straight when I was so scared. Steve was having the time of his life. Me fighting back was just turning him on even more.
He pinned my hands above my head. Somehow I'd ended up on my back during our struggle, my head wound throbbing with pain as it rubbed against the pillow.
"Round two," he said merrily. I screamed as he shoved in again, the pain in my already aching passage intensifying. He kissed me sloppily, cutting off my scream, and we repeated the whole process all over again.
I really, really hate him.
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The Impossible