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Beyond Here Lies Darkness	By : LotornoMiko Category: M through R > Once Upon A Time Views: 3726 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own the Once Upon A Time fandom. Nor do I make any money off of it or this story.

Chapter List
- 1-One
- 2-Two
- 3-Three
- 4-Four
- 5-Five
- 6-Six
- 7-Seven
- 8-Eight
- 9-Nine
- 10-Ten
- 11-Eleven
- 12-Twelve
- 13-Thirteen
- 14-Fourteen
- 15-Fifteen
- 1
- 2
Standard Disclaimer Time: I do not own Once Upon A Time or the characters from that show. Nor do I make any money off of this story. It is done purely for entertainment purposes.

-----Michelle

A few things I feel I need to make clear, warn about. This is NOT the sequel to Light Grasping Darkness. Instead it is a dark, alternate take on that story, a twisted tale of what if, where everything has gone horribly wrong

There will be rape in this, it's not meant to be a particularly happy story. But perhaps a story with some hope in it. But to try to explain why might spoil too much. Suffice it to say, I am trying for something here, but it depends on how the fic flows, how the characters end up feeling and thinking in response to the events that happen. In other words, I have something I am striving for, but the characters may throw me off my planned goal for the fic. Please read with caution...

---Michelle

The darkness stirs. Actually cracks open an eye, allowing a sliver of awareness to seep through. Lazily it takes stock, testing the invisible chains that bind it secure, applying pressure to manacles made alone on one man's strength of will. Casting claws over each link, finding the energy is weakening, the man's strength and confidence wavering. The cracks there that the Dark One feels, makes the darkness wake completely. It sits up just a little straighter, it's awareness turning to the vessel himself.

It is not immediately noticeable the cause behind the vessel's weakening. There is no sickness or infection coursing through the body. No injury caused, no healing being attempted. There's not even a particular strong magic being cast, no exacting spell causing the vessel to become distracted. There is nothing, and then the darkness finds a fleeting recognition. Remembers this feeling, this weakness for what it is. Remembering how it has been over three hundred years since it had last felt this twisting of power.

The darkness grows excited, unable to stop it's hissing laughter. The vessel hears what others can not, the man actually flinching in reaction. Shaking as the Dark One claws harder at his insides, rattling the chains, widening the cracks in an attempt to slip free. The vessel, fool that he is, diverts his weakening energies to try and contain the darkness. The vessel knows what the darkness is capable of, knows the monstrosities the Dark One will commit, as it retaliates for over three hundred years of imprisonment. The man knows his loved ones are in danger, that they will be made to pay for HIS crimes, the darkness exacting slow, merciless retribution.

The man fights, actually wastes precious energy on the darkness. Diverts his attention not to the approaching danger of the dagger, but to the monster within. The darkness knows the vessel has nothing but awful choices left to make. He can fight and can die, or he can let free the Dark One, let it take over the body and destroy their enemies. And all the latter will cost him is the destruction of everything he has ever held dear.

To Rumplestiltskin there is no choice. He will fight to keep the darkness contained, fight to the bitter end. Fight as though his actions matter in any way, fight as though his death will be the end of the darkness. It won't be, and the darkness laughs all the harder for the vessels' foolish hopes. Whispering silkily in Rumplestiltskin's ear, telling him how the darkness can never truly die. That as long as there is evil in the hearts of man and woman, so long as their hatred and fear remain, there too will be the darkness. Waiting, corrupting, seducing and ultimately destroying.

The vessel recognizes the truth the darkness whispers to him, and the man falters for just a second. The darkness grows stronger, preparing to lunge forward, and then the dagger stabs into the vessel's heart. As Rumplestiltskin screams the chains shatter, and the darkness surges forward. Huge, rolling coils of inky blackness pore out of the opening made by the heart's piercing.

The darkness reaches past the dagger, latches onto the hand that holds it. It caresses the unfamiliar skin, gets a taste of the man, registers the youth and vitality, the surface strength of the body. It scents the driving emotions that guide the man's actions, the hatred and the all consuming despair that cries out for vengeance. And under it, pasts wants and desires, past the raging need that has fueled him, the darkness finds the man weak.

Weaker than Rumplestiltskin had ever been, the darkness lets out a purr of approval. It's evaluation has taken only a second, the darkness learning much about Killian Jones, and the kind of man he is. Sweeping forward, tendrils coiling outwards to reach and cover more than just a hand, the darkness snakes up Killian Jones' arm. Swallowing him up in it's embrace, the darkness consumes, eating up the man's screams as it sets to work on fitting inside.

The darkness worms it's way into every hidden part of Killian Jones' insides. Spreading it's awareness, taking over every vital function. It closes a fist around the man's heart, laughs at the frantic pulse of it, then swallows it too. Killian Jones screams in reaction, his knees thumping painfully against the floor following his downwards collapse. The clatter of metal on the floor makes the darkness whip it's head around, it's stolen eyes searching for the source of that sound.

It sees the dagger on the floor, reacts in an instant, making a grab for it. But Killian Jones in his moment of despair and pain, is stronger than the darkness had ever anticipated. He resists the darkness' command, instead bringing a hand up to grab at his chest. The darkness snarls, tears up the vessels from the inside, making the man scream louder. The darkness screams too, all that fury and rage made worse when the dagger is snatched off of the floor, by a pale, feminine hand.

Blood red finger nails caress the dagger almost lovingly. The darkness reacts, it's stolen body jerky in it's movements as Killian Jones staggers to his feet. The man and the darkness are in agreement this one moment, both glaring in their shared body as they look at the woman who handles the dagger.

"Oh, Hook..." tsks the woman who has her shoulder length hair done up in an elaborate bun. "No, no, this won't do. I won't have you looking at me in that way."

"Cora..." Killian Jones practically spits out the name. "You bitch."

Her eyes flash in warning, the darkness bracing itself for the slash of power she sends their way. The vessel falls to the floor, but his torn cheek is already healing.

"Is that anyway to speak to your queen and master?!" Cora demands, magic crackling around her right hand. The darkness takes note, understanding that this woman is formidable, even without the dagger in her control.

"You tricked me!" The darkness hears it's vessel say.

"You tricked yourself." Cora retorts. "Honestly Hook. You didn't really think you could use the dagger on Rumplestiltskin and not pay a price." She pauses, and looks at the vessel. "Oh....oh dear..." A stunned breath from her, and then she laughs. "You did. How stupidly naive of you."

The darkness feels the man grimace, the anger not yet turning in on himself. Killain Jones is focusing his rage outwards, focusing his fury on the woman, snarling at her for her betrayals. "You wanted this to happen." He accuses, and Cora nods. "From the moment I read that map, you were counting on me being the one to find and use that dagger."

"Oh, I was counting on it a lot sooner than that." Cora told him. "After all it's not as if I could let myself or my daughter become the new vessel for the Dark One."

"The vessel..." Killian Jones frowns, still not understanding. He doesn't completely realize what he's done, what's he become, that his body is now nothing more than a host to the darkness within. The darkness keeps quiet for now, it's attention more for the woman and the dagger she holds than any confusion the man is dealing with.

"No....it's far better to be the master of the darkness, then be slave to it." Cora continued. "Though I'm not at all sorry to tell you, you don't have the luxury of that choice any more." She stepped closer to the man, actually touches the tip of the dagger to his bottom lip. "You know what this is, what it's capable of doing..."

The darkness lunges, trying for the dagger. Cora immediately pulled back, her mocking laugh accompanying her movements. "Ah ah ah. You really didn't think it would be that easy, did you?"

The darkness feels Killian Jones confusion, the man actually stammering as he spoke. "My...my body....it moved on it's own..."

"There's going to be a lot of that, I suspect. After all, Rumplestiltskin you are not. But no matter. Hook, or should I say the Dark One, you WILL do my bidding."

"I will not!" Killain Jones shouts. That elegant hand is backed with magic, as the woman slaps Killian Jones across the face with it.

"No one refuses me." She snapped. "Not the Dark One, and certainly not some pathetic pirate. And now...Hook...you're going to get up off that floor, march out of this shop, and help my daughter deal with our enemies."

"No." Killian Jones spat. "I won't."

"Dark One I command you!" The woman's snarl was accompanied by the backlash of magic, far stronger then hers. The darkness felt the chains take hold, the leash collar him, binding him to the will and wishes of the one who held the dagger. The darkness roared, eyes narrowed at Cora, wanting and waiting for it's chance. Vowing that one day this witch would find her slender neck snapped in two by the darkness' own hands. But for now it heeded it's slaver's call, staggering upright, the body still not acclimatized completely to it's new dual inhabitance.

Killian Jones fought, a dim witted understanding dawning inside him. He wasn't alone in his body, some malignant and alien force controlling his actions. Making him walk to the front of the shop, the darkness not allowing him to so much as flinch in reaction to the stray bolt of magic that suddenly blew apart the window's glass.

The glass crunched underfoot, sound seeming magnified. Over it, the darkness heard the shouts, saw the colors of more magic in the air. The otherworldly bolts of energy zig zagged about, their deflection causing damage to the surrounding buildings. Explosions followed their landing, the magic chaotic and violent, ripping things apart.

It was just the kind of chaos and strife the darkness reveled in. The kind of violent nightmare the Dark One was capable of making all too real. Even as it resented the orders given to it by the woman Cora, the darkness found it's appetite wetted, something very much like excitement coiling within it at the chance to do some real damage.

Ripping the door free of the shop, the darkness preceded Cora in stepping outside. A bolt of magic raced passed it's face, the darkness turning. It was promptly dazzled, an unexpected light blazing bright across the street. It wasn't a light from the windows, and it wasn't a light from the street lamps. The sky was dark and overcast with clouds, the light shining as bright if not brighter than the sun that was hidden.

The darkness forgot how to breathe, staring at the light. Strong as it was bright, it was a white beacon of purity, of magic most holy. It was like nothing the darkness had ever seen, the power and warmth of that untainted light something never before encountered, not even in all the long years that the Dark One had existed.

The light was something so different and wholly unique that the darkness ignored the fighting around it. Staring transfixed at the light, nearly blinded by it. Wanting the light, yet fearing it's touch, the darkness hadn't yet noticed the other oddity about the dazzling power. The person within the light, the power radiating not so much from her body, but from her soul.

The pain crashing into the darkness from behind, broke the enchantment. The darkness roared, the woman Cora behind it. She was screaming at the Dark One, ordering it to do as she commanded. Resentment curled inside the darkness, the Dark One snarling. Held back by an invisible force, it glared at the one who had enslaved it.

"Destroy them!" Cora was saying. "Destroy them all!"

The darkness tensed, it's magic gathering. Those marked for death would suffer a dozen times worse then needed, the darkness making them pay in ways it could not yet do to Cora. It called upon the most twisted of it's arsenal, magic to make the flesh peel from ones bones, to make one hold and crush their own heart in their hands, even magic to cause one to drown in every one of their own filthy fluids. The darkness planned to unleash all that and more, prepared to fling out the spells, and instead found it's arms frozen.

"What are you waiting for?!" Cora screamed in demand. "I said to destroy them!"

The darkness tried again, and not so much as a finger moved. It felt sweat bead on the sides of it's face, felt the sheer determination of the vessel as the man called on all his reserves to hold the darkness at bay. The darkness snarled in frustration, scrapped claws over Killian Jones from the inside of his body. A grunt was his reward, Killian Jones biting down on his lip hard enough to bleed.

With the coppery metallic taste of blood on it's tongue, the darkness heard Killian Jones scream. "While you still can, run!"

There was a frozen moment of inaction, the only real movement and sound from the flames eating at the damaged buildings. It was over quicker than the blink of an eye, shouts accompanying the action. Loudest of all was the woman Cora. She practically screeched in fury, the death and destruction she wished for being denied to her not by the darkness, but by the will of the pirate alone.

"What are you doing?!" Cora screamed, vicious in her anger, as her magic slapped Killian Jones in the face. The man grunted in response, his force of will slipping. Not by much, and certainly not enough for the darkness to regain control. The darkness paced inside Killain Jones' body, trying to practice a patience it didn't at all feel.

"Mother, they're getting away!" Another voice spoke, angry and female.

"They won't for long, my daughter." Cora promised, her voice still so full of anger. "The Dark One will see to that!"

When Killian Jones opened his mouth to make some biting retort, it was not his voice that emerged, but that of the darkness. At it's furious roar, even Cora looks frightened, taking a step back for her own safety. The darkness barely pays her any mind, having noticed what the others have not. That the light, ever bright and pure, was moving. Was running away from this place, from the chaos and the fighting, from the darkness itself.

Snarling in protest, the darkness tried to chase after the light. It came up against the flimsy, weakening will of one Killian Jones, the man groaning in pain. The darkness screamed, began pounding on the barrier that separated it and Killian Jones' conflicting desires. It hammered fists of steel into it and Killian, scraped and clawed hard enough to bleed the body, bit down on mouthfuls of tender flesh. Killain Jones a weak willed man by nature, would fall under the onslaught, the darkness filling his eyes.

Where Killian Jones fell, the darkness rose. The sense of urgency it felt, had nothing to do with the commands given to it by Cora. It ignored the pain her magic and the dagger would inflict on it, the darkness resisting the murderous compulsions of it's slaver.

Instead, with the backlash of magic most painful coursing through it, the darkness turned to track the bobbing path of the light. It had already traveled far, reduced to a mere glittering speck in the distance. So small as to be imagined, the darkness still moved, intent on following after it, on getting close to it. Wanting to touch the light, to be near it, to study it, to possess it.

Wanting to hoard that gleaming brightness for it's very own, the darkness moved. A false night went with it, inky blackness eating away at the surroundings, casting Storybrooke into a darkness that might prove eternal.

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To Be Continued...

Have to stay I'm not happy with this start at all. I might come back and tinker with it....or maybe I'll decide in a few days it's fine as it is....but for now I feel very frustrated by this. Want to thank my friend, xearthfaex, for reading over a huge chunk of the work in progress, and trying to reassure me this isn't sucking. Thanks hon! *Hugs*

I dunno...my dissatisfaction is showing, to the point I can't think much of to ramble on about. Maybe that's a good thing...no long winded author's note...X_X

And for those wondering, the actual sequel fic did get started but I only have 6 KB written so far. Sorry about making ya'll wait for THAT one....

---Michelle
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Beyond Here Lies Darkness