InsaneJournal

Dahak Rising...
Who: Dahak and OTA
When: Early Morning Day 11
What: The Darkness Comes
Where: In the entry way to the resort...
Rating: R for violence, profanity, sexuality
Status: Open

Michael Hawkins stared down at the mask in his hands, and the mask stared back at him. It had been a long time in the coming, this revenge, on his girlfriend, on his coworkers, on all of them. None of them understood, and all of them had been belittling him for as far back as he could remember. He could still remember their chubby little faces on the playground, pointing and laughing at him. He'd tried, of course, to fit in, to play their little games of make believe, but when he told them something was wrong with the way they were pretending, that unicorns didn't really exist or that they'd never be able to have a base on the moon because of the lack of food supply, they'd called him stupid, and the bigger kids had sent him home with bruises...

Not that it was really noticeable. Michael got plenty of bruises at home as it was. In fact, if anything, the fact that he got bruises at school just made it easier for 'Pops' to explain away the bruises that Michael had gotten at home. No more resorting to the 'he fell down the stairs' excuse when the bigger kids at school were always eager to kick your ass and leave you bleeding for one of the teachers to find. Then you got to come home and play the guessing game about whether or not the old man had been drinking again, whether you would come back to consciousness screaming and begging for mercy while your head throbbed in agony and he shook you or slammed you up agains a wall.

Oh, but the Old man would get his first.

Michael had originally been planning on waiting, saving the aging monster for last. It would be the sweet icing on the cake, but in reality it didn't add up. And it didn't matter how many others paid, if the bastard who had spawned him into this world didn't go out of it at Michael's hands, it would all be a waste. Besides, taking care of all of those bastards at the office who laughed at him, who made jokes about 'creepy Mike' in the break room when they thought he couldn't hear them, that was going to be a public affair. With the old man, he had the time to be private, to make it personal... to take every ounce of pain and agony Michael had had to live through as a child, and give it back to the fucking bastard.

On the drive there, Michael felt almost giddy. Soon he would be free, it would be all over. He'd enjoy the old man's demise... take his time with it... and then would come Laura... oh yes, he'd not forgotten about Laura. Laura who was so much better than him, who'd sneered at him when she took her things from their place and told him that he was sick and needed help. Just because he got a little too drunk one night. Michael hadn't smacked her too hard, hell, she didn't know what real abuse was. He'd told her he was sorry, but she'd not listened to him, left him, for 'Little Dick' of all people.

Little Dick was the biggest jackass in Michael's office. Always demanding this or that being done. He was the sort of boss they all hated, drunk on the power of middle management. Laura had met him at the office party last year and thought he was a decent guy. Shit, she'd probably been fucking him on the side since then, Michael reasoned.

Through his stake outs of Laura's new place though, he knew that Little Dick spent his hour and a half 'management lunch break' going home for a quickie. Michael would catch them both with their pants down, and spend some 'quality time' making them sorry for what they'd done to him. Then he'd finish up at the office. No way to keep that quiet, but as long as he saved a bullet for himself at the end, who the fuck cared, right? It'd be over soon enough, and when it was done he'd be immortalized in the papers, the news. They'd spend days going over what drove him to do it, what he'd been thinking... people on the blogs that he read would talk about how awesome he was, just like those kids who went around shooting up schools...

His fingers trembled as he tried to unlock the door to the old man's house. He'd been given an extra key, just in case something happened. Now, now it was time to use it, it was finally time! In his satchel bag, he had the mask he would adorn to do it all. Better they not know it was him, not until the end, and then, then they would see what they had made him into. Clips of ammo were also in there, along with his Tek-9, a special gift for the office. But at the moment though, it was time to pull out the long curved Kukri. He'd seen it in a pawn shop somewhere, and when he'd seen it, he knew... he knew that it was the blade for his vengeance.

Through a doorway he could see the fat old man sitting on the couch, watching his television. Slowly he drew out the blade, stepped through the doorway... and into another world.

Michael blinked as he stared down at the plaque in front of him, he read those condemning words. He didn't even notice the rain or storm around him, his anger was too great to focus on such petty things as the water drenched him. No, it couldn't be true. He was so close, so goddamn close! Where was this place? He had to find a way out... there had to be an exit around here somewhere...

----------------------------------------------

In another place and time, Iolaus was strapped to a table, his best friend, Hercules, standing over him with a worried look. And the creature that lived inside of Iolaus' body now grinned slowly. He was chained down, but regardless of what Hercules did now, he would lose his friend. Even if he managed to save the sidekick's soul in the process. That being said, Dahak wasn't in the best of spots, really. Not that he could be destroyed, no, he was a part of the darkness in every heart, and even Hercules' heart had darkness in it. He could see how brutally the Son of Zeus wanted to kill him, even now... but he couldn't, because Dahak wore the face of his best friend.

"Give up, Dahak..." Hercules said in an all too predictable fashion, and the lord of darkness sneered back at him. Pathetic human concepts of an overall sense of justice in the world. There were forces of good, but the mortal plane was HIS domain and his alone. He'd kept good from taking over this land, and goodness itself feared him. There was no divine justice to be rained down upon him, the powers of light left it to their little minions and tools to risk their lives and souls in order to try to stop him.

Had it not been for the wanderer, the one whom had already felt his touch, the one who knew too much, Dahak would have ruled this land. Even now his followers banged on the doors of the church, seeking his release, and seeking the death too of Ares, to strengthen the dark god. All in all Dahak was beginning to realize that he'd miscalculated, and he turned to look at the wanderer with venom in his eyes. Oh yes, he'd allowed the wanderer to run free for far too long. That someone knew the secret and had the power to bind him like this was unnacceptable, and his mind filled with a thousand and one ways to torture the druid until he finally gave up and relinquished his soul...

You'd be amazed what people were willing to agree to when they were burning alive.

The ceremony was nearly ending, but Hercules was whispering the words that Dahak feared. He was seeing through the illusion, and reaching out to try to save Iolaus, to make this into a fight. Not that Dahak wasn't prepared for one, but a spiritual battle with the son of Zeus was too close, too risky. It would take long to recover from a defeat in his spiritual form...

Which was when the Planet happened to come for Iolaus.

As the portal opened beneath the body of Iolaus, Dahak's eyes widened. Through it he could feel innocent souls, a world untouched by corruption. And to escape now would be to admit defeat, but to journey to an entire world of playthings. But more importantly, he would be denying Iolaus the ability to repent for his sins. A wide toothy grin spread over Iolaus/Dahak's features, as he waved in his chains to Hercules. "See ya, old buddy..." he said, and then suddenly Dahak left Iolaus' body, traveling through the portal to the Planet that was meant for the hero.

For really, why would the Planet, which wanted life and a population, choose the master of destruction to come to it? As the portal closed, Dahak shivered as he heard Hercules' scream as he realized his friend had passed away, still damned.

---------------------------------------------------

Michael's heart seemed to stop as he walked out the doors of the Mirage, and saw the desert sands. Even through the blowing winds of sand, he could tell: there was no escape, anywhere, just an endless desert that stretched out for miles in every direction. He was really trapped here. His revenge was ruined, his plans... oh the plans to murder them all were gone now, disappated into thin air. He felt numb, the giddiness that had once echoed through every pore stolen from him from some planet... but the Planet would see, he still had control over life and death, even if it was his own.

Drawing up his blade he pressed it to his chest, closing his eyes, not noticing the inky shadow that was slowly sliding across the desert towards him, flowing beneath him until he was surrounded by a lake of darkness, nor did he notice the tingling in his legs that it caused as it probed him, felt it's way into the dark in his soul. Oh, there was so much sweet darkness in this soul, not like Iolaus, who had only his envy of Hercules... this creature was one of the blacker ones... a true agent of chaos.

"Michael..." whispered the darkness, causing the man to pause. The man turned his head slowly to look around, and see what the unearthly voice that called him was. "You can still get your revenge, Michael... I can get you home... I can promise when you get there, we can kill them all together, you and I..."

Michael's hand fell to his side as his eyes half lidded. The sound of it was sweet, seductive, like a part of him he'd never known was there, calling out to him, whispering things that he'd never dared to dream. Where once had lived the fantasies of him killing his father and those he knew now, he could see himself empowered by darkness, not only killing those he'd planned to, but being able to kill anyone... to track down every last one who had ever laughed at him, every school bully that had ever laid a hand on him, anyone and everyone he'd ever hated... and murder them in ways more horrible than he'd dared to imagine... "Yes... what do I have to do?" Michael spoke fervently.

"Give yourself to me, cut your hand and swear a blood oath to be the vessel of Dahak..." whispered the darkness around him.

Michael could feel the words in his brain, blessed words to give unto the dark one. Slowly he reached up the kukri blade and slit along his palm, squeezing it until it bled, chanting the words in Latin, familiar words, even though he had never studied it before. Dahak gave him the words to this knowledge, just as Dahak would give him everything that he'd ever wanted. <This one gives his body as a vessel for Dahak freely, to use as the dark lord sees fit. May Dahak reign over the earth and heaven for ever and ever, let his darkness never fade even in the brightest of light. Let it be done...>

And then the darkness around him slowly climbed up the stream of blood from his fingertips, sliding up into his left arm, then pouring into his veins. The power, GOD the power! It was more than Dahak had even promised him. With this he could destroy the world... they would destroy it together. Oh, the things that Michael would do with this power... the women he could have, the people he could make submit to him!

But then he felt it get to his head, and realized, too late, what he had done. His consciousness seared as a dull whine rose in his throat, his ability to scream robbed of him as he lay twitching upon the ground, his brain trying to reason with the darkness inside of him. "this is not what we agreed!"

"Oh, but it is, Michael, it is. I meant 'we' as me and your body. You'll have to forgive me, I let the spirit in the last host I had remain in tact, and it was a rather costly venture for my trouble. This time I won't be taking any chances... Don't worry, some piece of you will be left alive, just the animalistic urges. From your thoughts I can discern this planet isn't going to like me killing someone, even you, and until I know the extent of it's power... I plan to be on my guard."

As Michael's internal scream faded into a whimper, his mind labotamized completely by the darkness he'd given himself to, Dahak spread like a cancer through his body, until the body was fully his own. Slowly, Dahak stood up, examining the form he'd taken. It was rather nice, long flowing brown hair a goatee, deep chocolate eyes that seemed oh so innocent. For a moment though, they glowed a bright yellow as a twisted smile took over the bodies face, and Dahak raised a hand, which began to turn black as polluted power, the stuff of pure darkness, flowed from him freely. Yes, unlike Iolaus, there was no resistance in this body anymore... nothing to stop him from doing... whatever he wanted.

Slowly he turned back towards the doorway, brushing off his dark t-shirt and jeans, and calmly walked up the steps. Someone would be along soon enough to greet him, he imagined...

Meanwhile, those sensitive to darkness or the occult, as well as Xena and Gabrielle would feel a sudden twisting in their stomachs. If they were asleep, nightmares of a coming chaos would plague them, or the forboding feeling that something on this planet was now very wrong in a way that could never truly be undone.

Dahak had arrived.