Chain of Resurrection | By : Carpentaria Category: +S to Z > Saint Seiya: The Lost Canvas Views: 7643 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0 |
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Chapter 6
“Let go!”
Mandrake growled low in his throat as the young Saint in his arms struggled widely, kicking those powerful legs at him whenever he came within reach. He tightened his grip and then shook the young man hard enough to make his teeth rattle.
Yato hissed in pain as his head snapped back and forth with the force of the Specter’s assault. Mandrake had not said a word since he had taken him from his friends and brought him here. Yato assumed it was Hades’ castle as the place was crawling with black-armoured Specters. A lot of them were low-ranking but they had come across several powerful Specters whose presence alone was enough to make his heart jump with fear. He had known that they would eventually be forced to fight powerful Specters, but he had not understood till now what would happen when such a fight broke out. His meeting with Hades had frozen the very blood in his veins, but the King of the Underworld had only been interested in Tenma. He had realised Tenma’s true strength then, as his friend had stood head-to-toe with the god, not flinching even as those cold hands had reached for him.
I can’t fight Hades, but I can fight this guy! he thought and renewed his struggles to get free.
Mandrake narrowed his eyes in anger. Every fibre in his body was screaming at him to simply murder the annoying Saint and be done with it, but Hades’ orders had been very specific: do not kill any Saints!
But that didn’t mean he couldn’t hurt the Saint. With frightening speed, he grabbed Yato by the shoulders and slammed him into a wall repeatedly. He smirked in satisfaction at the sound of the Saint’s head hitting the stone. He only paused his attack when the young man stopped struggling, too dazed to fight back. He pressed his body against Yato, keeping him trapped between his Surplice and the wall. He then grabbed his wrists and pulled his arms up over his head, trapping them with one hand. He grabbed the young man’s chin with his other hand and forced him to look up.
“Are you done?” he asked.
Yato tried to bring his thoughts together, but his head was pounding fiercely. He was certain his skull had sustained fractures from Mandrake’s violent attack. He inhaled sharply through his nose and forced his surroundings into focus once more. He glared hatefully at the Specter when the man grabbed his chin and forced him to look him in the eyes. The Specter repeated his question when he didn’t answer.
“I’m just getting started!” Yato hissed at him and then spat him in the face. He glared defiantly even as his heart started pounding with fear. The Specter froze, not quite understanding what had just happened. When he felt the spit travel down his cheek, his face twisted into a horrible mask of pure fury and his eyes turned nearly black. He released Yato’s chin and swiped the saliva away with his thumb. Mandrake then leaned forward until his face was only inches away from Yato.
“Lord Hades ordered me to bring you here alive, but I promise you this: when our Lord has put an end to this war, you will spend the rest of your eternity in pain. I will not let you rest even for a second! Even if you beg me for mercy, you shall get none. I will teach you what it truly means to fear another being. Your existence will be entirely dependent on me and me alone.”
He pulled back slightly, satisfied that his words had reached the young Saint – for now. He had no doubt the young man would fight him again. And he would take great pleasure in breaking his spirit.
Yato’s breath came on short intakes as his body and mind trembled. He knew that Mandrake meant every word. A part of him wanted to give in, to stop fighting and avoid any more pain. But a larger part of him resisted the tempting thoughts. He thought of Tenma and Yuzuriha and all the other Saints fighting to keep the world safe. He would not be a coward and take the easy way out!
“I am not afraid of you!” he hissed and glared. Mandrake raised an eyebrow at the obvious lie. He could practically hear the frantic beating of the young man’s heart. His pupils were blown wide and his harsh breathing filled the air. They continued to glare at one another before Mandrake let out a snort and released him. Yato lowered his arms, ignoring the way they ached. He resisted the urge to rub his sore wrists, knowing the Specter would see it as a sign of weakness.
He tried to discreetly looked around, hoping to find a way that would lead him out of this place. It would not be easy to escape with so many Specters around, but he had to try if he got the chance. When he saw Mandrake looking at him with a knowing look in those dark eyes, he glared back. He would not let the Specter intimidate him any more.
“Come,” Mandrake said after several moments of silence. He turned on his heel and began striding down a hallway, confident the young Saint would follow him. It was not like he had any other choice.
Yato contemplated running the other way, but he was pretty certain that Mandrake would catch him fairly quickly and that the capture would involve some form of terrible pain. So he followed the man, taking in as many details of the castle as he could.
“Where are you taking me?” Yato asked after they had walked through several hallways. He was certain the Specter was leading him deeper into the castle, but he wasn’t quite sure why. Was he taking him to the dungeons or other holding cells?
“That is for me to know and for you to see,” Mandrake said. He sensed the young man’s irritation and smirked. He wanted Yato to wonder, to grow impatient and nervous. He wanted his prey to be on edge when he finally revealed their destination. He had no doubt the Saint would make a run for it once he realised where Mandrake was taking him. He suddenly became aware of a presence up ahead. His arm shot out, grabbed the Saint by the back of his neck, and then pushed him down to his knees.
Yato bit back a cry of pain when his knees slammed into the cold stone floor. He glared at the Specter and opened his mouth to demand what the problem was. He was shocked when a fist slammed into his temple, nearly knocking him unconscious. He didn’t struggle when Mandrake forced him further down, his forehead almost touching the floor. Despite the pain pounding through his skull, he was aware enough to realise that someone had appeared before them. His breath caught in his throat when he realised who it was.
“Lord Hades,” Mandrake said, kneeling next to Yato and keeping his head down. He looked up after a moment, hoping to see a sign of approval on his lord’s face. When Hades sent him a small smirk, he knew he had not disappointed his lord. He slowly rose to his feet, bringing an unsteady Yato with him.
Yato swayed slightly and blinked hard, trying to force his surroundings into focus. He did not want to be this vulnerable when facing Hades. He knew the god could kill him with a simple movement of his hand, but he wanted to show him that he was not intimidated – at least on the outside. His insides were tight with fear at being so near this dark being, whose sole purpose was to destroy.
“And who is this?” a cold voice asked. A cool hand took hold of his chin and pushed his head up slightly, exposing his throat. He looked into a pair of icy blue eyes that seemed to burn in their intensity. Hades continued to study his face as if he was a creature the god had never come across before. When a cold and terrible smile spread across the god’s face Yato knew that to Hades, he was nothing more than a pawn to be pulled and pushed around.
“I remember you. You were in the Underworld with Pegasus,” Hades said and released his face. Yato forced himself not to react to the words and simply looked at Hades.
“You are Tenma’s friend, yes?” Hades asked.
“That’s none of your business,” Yato said in a cold voice. As soon as the words left his mouth, a stinging slap was delivered to his face. He stumbled to the side from the force of the blow. He brought a hand to his face, knowing that a bruise would soon colour his skin. He turned hateful eyes to Mandrake whose hand was still raised.
“How dare you speak to Lord Hades in such a manner!” the Specter hissed furiously. His whole body was practically vibrating with supressed anger and it was only Hades’ presence that seemed to hold him back from tearing into the young Saint.
“He is not my Lord,” Yato hissed in defiance. He snorted in satisfaction when Mandrake’s eyes turned murderous. The Specter was apparently not so controlled when in the presence of Hades. A soft laugh brought his attention back to Hades who was watching them in amusement.
“Calm yourself, Mandrake. His words mean nothing to me,” he said. Mandrake took a deep breath and forced his body into submission. The tension left his shoulders and was replaced by sharp alertness. He took control of his anger and let a blank mask settle over his face. He would not let this Saint embarrass him in front of Lord Hades.
Yato watched the change with apprehension. He did not like the way the two of them were looking at him and he unconsciously took a few steps back. Hades smiled at the movement and held up a hand. Yato felt a terrible Cosmos wrap around him, freezing him in place. The Cosmos delved into his body and seemed to settle around his organs. He felt his heart jump when something cold seeped into the muscle.
“You would do well to remember your place, Saint. The only reason you are here and not in a dark hole is because of your friendship with Pegasus. He will come rushing in to save you without hesitation. And I will be waiting for him,” Hades said. As he spoke, his Cosmos swelled and almost suffocated Yato. The young man’s harsh breathing filled the hallway, but Hades paid it no mind. He continued to speak.
“A new order is being established in which Saints are nothing more than toys. You and all other Saints exist for one reason, and that is to serve me in every way I see fit. If I tell you to cut off a limb, you will do so without question. If I tell you to murder those you love, you will not hesitate. You exist for me and me alone.”
Hades stepped forward until he was just inches away. He ran a finger down the young Saint’s face, caressing the soft skin. He smirked when he felt the young twitch, trying to shy away from the unwelcome touch. His fingers explored the Saint’s face for a few moments before pulling away. He released the young man and watched as he just barely caught his footing.
Yato took a deep breath, forcing his body and emotions to settle. When he was in control of himself, he looked up and meet Hades’ eyes.
“You’re wrong,” he said, Hades raised an eyebrow in question but did not otherwise show his slight confusion at the words.
“You didn’t bring me here simply because I am Tenma’s friend. I am here because you are afraid you won’t be able to bring Tenma with you, and so you need some leverage to ensure his cooperation. You don’t want to break his spirit; you just want to ensure his submission to you.” When Hades’ eyes widened just a fraction, Yato knew he had hit the nail on the head. His triumph was short-lived, however. A darkness the form of a small cloud appeared behind Hades’ head. It grew until it filled the entire width of the hallway. Then thin tendrils of darkness suddenly shot forward and wrapped themselves around Yato’s arms, legs and chest. He cried out in part fear, part pain as the tendrils tightened enough to cut into his skin, blood beginning to trickle down and splattering unto the floor.
“If you learn to behave yourself, I might let you play with my Tenma once in a while. But until you do, Mandrake will teach you all you need to know to survive in my world,” Hades said in a dark voice. Before Yato could respond, a tendril wrapped around his throat, cutting of his words and squeezing until everything turned dark…
*
An agonising pain searing through his body woke Yato up, and he found himself in a situation worse than the one before he had passed out. The young man’s memory was a bit muddy and he did not remember how he had gotten to where he was. As his vision began to clear, he realised just how terrible a situation he was in.
He was facing a wall, his arms bound above his head with thick shackles and even thicker chains. The cold metal bit into skin and had already left marks on his wrists from suspending his entire bodyweight. He managed to get his feet under him and slowly stand up, relieving the pressure on his arms. Once he was standing and his vision had cleared, he looked around. He immediately wished he hadn’t.
The room he was in was cold, the only light coming from a few candles that cast an illuminating glow around the room. Despite the uneven light he recognised his surroundings immediately. It was the same place they had rescued Tenma from. Mandrake’s playground.
“So, you are finally awake? I was afraid you would sleep through all the fun,” A dark voice whispered directly behind him. Yato startled, not having heard or sense anyone in the room with him. He turned his head and caught sight of Mandrake. The Specter was not wearing his Surplice, but instead black trousers, a dark sleeveless tunic and black gloves. His hair had been pulled into a low ponytail, the long locks hanging down his back. His eyes were glowing as he took in the sight of the young Saint chained and bound, ready to receive his tender care.
He raised a hand and gently caressed the back of the young man’s neck, the movement betraying his actual intentions. He felt the Saint go still at the touch, clearly expecting pain to follow the gentle touch. Mandrake did not disappoint. He moved his hand up and grabbed a hold of the boy’s hair, yanking his head back. Yato bit back a cry at the rough treatment.
“Let go,” he hissed and tried to break free. Mandrake responded by slamming his face into the wall. This time Yato did cry out. Mandrake released him and stepped back. Yato could hear him moving around somewhere behind him. After a few moments he felt Mandrake move closer to him again, the Specter only a few inches away.
“Now, I do believe it is time to get started,” Mandrake said and grabbed hold of Yato.
“Stop! What are you doing?!” Yato yelled when he felt Mandrake begin to remove his Cloth. The Specter paid him no heed and continued to remove the armour. Once it was off, he let his hands roam the strong body before him, mentally calculating how much the Saint could take before his body gave out. Once he was satisfied, he stepped back once more, this time picking up an item he had hidden from view.
Yato let out a relieved breath when the Specter released him. His heart had been pounding in fear when the man had run his hands all over his body, as if inspecting a new toy. He heard him searching for something. His fear escalated when Mandrake stepped up to him and showed him exactly what he was holding in his hand.
It was a whip. It was not done in leather or rough clothes, like the ones used by farmers or prison guards. This whip was made of something shiny that looked a lot like the Specters’ Surplice. The long metallic cord was embedded with tiny spikes, making it look like something from a nightmare. Yato squeezed his eyes shut when Mandrake snapped the whip just inches from his body.
“Only when you beg me will I consider stopping,” Mandrake said before moving into position behind the young Saint. He let the whip travel along the floor, enjoying the way the boy’s breath hitched every time it caught on something and made a sound. He saw the body before tense, trying to anticipate when the whip would cut into him. Mandrake smirked darkly.
Yato tried to control his trembling body, but the anticipation made his body tense. He listen as hard as he could for any movement that would indicate the whip coming at him, but Mandrake simply chuckled and ceased all movements, making it impossible to determine when the first blow would land.
Just when he thought he could not bear the suspense any longer, a terrible pain cut across his back, slicing through skin and spilling blood. He bit his lip so hard it started bleeding, to stop the scream from escaping. He would not give the Specter the satisfaction of voicing his pain and terror. The whip flew through the air and slammed into him again.
“Come now, little Saint. Let me hear you scream,” Mandrake said and swung his arm, watching as the spiked whip tore through the Saint’s thin tunic and leaving a long, bloody mark in its wake.
“I won’t!” Yato hissed between clenched teeth. He could feel his blood running down his back and soaking the top of his trousers. His back was already on fire and Mandrake had only used the whip twice!
“Oh, but you will, little Saint. I won’t stop until you scream for me, and trust me when I say that I can do this for as long as I need to,” Mandrake said and swung the whip. He altered the whipping once in a while, sometimes pausing between each hit, and then changing to whipping the young man with quick and brutal hits. The young man’s back quickly turned into a bloody mess of torn skin and blood. Mandrake watched, fascinated, as the red liquid dripped unto the floor in a puddle beneath the Saint. Said Saint was panting, the muscles in his shoulders shaking with the effort of holding his body up.
“Scream for me,” Mandrake whispered and let the whip fly. The sound of the whip flying through the air was just as satisfying as the sound of it tearing through skin.
Eventually, Yato couldn’t hold back a cry of pain. His back felt like someone had lit it on fire. He had never felt such pain, and it terrified him even more thinking about what the Specter would do to him next.
Mandrake paused his movements at the sound. It had taken a bit longer to make the young man cry out than he had thought, but he was still pleased with his work. He stepped closer to Yato and raised a hand. Then, without warning, he dug his nails into the torn back and pulled his hand downwards. A scream of pure agony filled the air.
Yato pulled and yanked on the chains binding him, ignoring the way the metal bit into his skin. He just wanted to get away from the pain Mandrake was inflicting on his back. When the Specter continued his downward movement, Yato feared that he would actually try to dig out his spine with his bare hand.
“Stop! STOP!” he yelled and kicked out, hoping to catch the Specter unawares. Mandrake avoided the kick easily and responded by slamming a foot into the side of Yato’s leg, dislocating his knee.
A scream of pain escaped the young Saint. He felt his leg give out, forcing him to rest his entire weight on the other foot. Yato gasped for breath, trying to somehow find the will to continue to resist even as pain radiated through his back and knee. But Mandrake did not give him time to gather his bearings. He fisted his hand in Yato’s tunic and with a swift yank, tore the ruined garment from his body, leaving his upper body bare.
Yato inhaled sharply when the tunic was ripped from his body. He shivered as the cold atmosphere of the Underworld circulated his body, making his nipples peak. He tightened his grip on the chains when Mandrake rested his hands on his shoulders. He couldn’t hide his surprise when the Specter began rubbing his shoulders, stronger fingers massaging the tension out of sore muscles. The man didn’t speak, simply continued to work on the stressed muscles and joints. Against his will, Yato found himself slowly relaxing. His back and leg were still on fire, but there was something about the way the Specter was touching him that made him forget the pain, if only for a few moments.
He shifted slightly when Mandrake moved his hands from his shoulders to his sides, teasing the sensitive areas. Then those hands moved to his chest and began drawing small circles around his harden nipples.
“What are you doing?!” Yato asked, voice tight with alarm. He tried to move forward, but Mandrake simply followed him and continued to circle his nipples, getting closer and closer to the nubs with every move. Yato arched his back when his nipples were suddenly grasped between thumb and forefinger and gently rolled. He had never known that this part of his body was so sensitive to touch.
Mandrake smirked at the sound of the young Saint’s gasps. He had initially planned to simply whip the young man into unconsciousness, but the way he had screamed and arched his body made him change his mind. There were other ways of torture, ways that would bind the young man to him more strongly to him than simple pain. He continued to caress those pink nipples, eyes growing dark with pleasure when the young man let out a small sound.
Yato tried to keep silent, but the way Mandrake was touching made him gasp for breath. He felt heat spread from his nipples to the rest of his body, and in particular his stomach and lower regions. When he tried to shift his body slightly, Mandrake tightened his grip on his nipples to the point of pain and he quickly stopped moving. He was ashamed to admit that the slight sting actually felt good.
“There’s a good boy,” Mandrake whispered in his ear. His tongue snaked out and licked the outer shell of his ear before pulling the lobe into his mouth and sucking. He was very much aware of how much his touch was affecting the young man before him, and it pleased him immensely.
“Nhh!” The pleasure coursing through his body had him panting, and Mandrake had only touched his nipples! A small part of him wondered what it would feel like if the Specter touched his cock.
“Please,” Yato whispered.
“Please, what?” Mandrake asked as his fingers teased the tip of his nipples.
“Please… I don’t want…” Yato said, even as his body was pushing into Mandrake’s touch. The man smirked against his neck.
“But you feel good, don’t you? Or perhaps you want me to touch somewhere else?” His fingers left his nipples and slowly moved downwards. He gently stroked the sensitive skin of his lower belly, watching as the Saint shivered. He let out a low chuckle and then moved lower.
Yato held his breath when those hands moved, coming closer and closer to the place where he most wanted to be touched. His cock was hard and pushing against the thin material of his trousers, begging for attention. He almost let out a frustrated hiss when Mandrake paused just inches from his cock. He began caressing the V of his pelvis before moving to his inner thighs. A part of Yato wanted to yell at the Specter to touch him, to relieve the building pressure while the other part wanted to get as far away from the man as possible.
Mandrake continued to tease the young man. He knew Yato wanted him to bring him relief, but he would not give the Saint what he wanted so easily. He needed him to understand that he was completely at his mercy, that everything he felt or saw or thought was because he was allowing it. He stilled his hands, fingers digging into the boy’s hips.
“Do you hear that?” he whispered in his ear. Yato stilled against him, clearly sensing that something had changed. He strained to hear anything beyond the sound of the dead moving through the Underworld, but he could not pick anything up.
“That will be the only sound you will hear in a very long time, unless I say otherwise. These walls be the only thing you’ll see, unless I take you out. I will be the only company you’ll have other than the dead, and they don’t socialise much. Very soon, you will look forward to what I can give you, be it pain or pleasure, because that is all you will have.” With every word, he tightened his grip on Yato’s hips. He was certain there would be bruises the shape of his fingers.
As Mandrake spoke, Yato was able to think through the pleasure still heating his body. He hated himself for giving in to the Specter.
Tenma would not have given up so easily!
“I will never give myself to you! You may break my body, but my mind, my soul, will never be yours!” he hissed angrily.
Mandrake laughed. Oh, but he simply loved taking on the young ones. They never had any idea of the many ways in which a human could be broken. They all thought they could resist him, but in the end, no one had ever remained intact after he was done. This hot-headed Saint was no different.
“Struggle all you want, little Saint. But, the truth is that soon you will think of nothing but pleasing me, because I will be the only one who can bring you back from the void you will be living in. And you will come to crave my touch like a starving man.”
With those words, Mandrake released Yato, grabbed the whip and let it fly through the air, the painful screams of the Saint filling the Underworld.
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